When Darkness Falls - Book 1: The Story of Severus Snape
by WhisperingWolf
Summary: His life had never been easy. Even as a young boy he knew that sometimes the hardest thing of all was finding something to have faith in. Then one day he met a young girl named Lily Evans and felt hope for the first time. SS with SS/LE Most chapters are K rating, but this will be rated M as some chapters contain elements of abuse or strong language. Don't like Snape, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

When Darkness Falls

Book One: The Story of Severus Snape

Chapter 1

His eyes opened in the darkness, his breath coming quick as his limbs felt at once both too heavy to move and too energized to keep still. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, shocks sparking beneath his skin as his muscles twitched. The desire to run pulsed through him, incessant and maddening, until he found himself sitting up in his bed, his small hands gripping the bedclothes on either side of his knees. His legs hung over the side of the bed, his feet not near enough to touch the floor and he thought once again about his muggle father's words. _There are monsters under the bed that eat little boys who don't behave._

Wasn't it a parent's job to protect? He was certain he'd overheard a man say that to their child the last time he and his mother had gone into town to buy food. Had he heard wrong? Had he been mistaken? He looked down at the floor as he tried to determine what had woken him, why he was so filled with terror. He jerked as he looked up at the door, the sound faint but unmistakable and his heart felt to be fighting its way out of his chest. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He knew that much; knew that this wasn't normal and that this wasn't a good thing.

The sound came again and he flinched, his hands tightening on the bedclothes. He shook his head, tears coming to his eyes as he squeezed them tightly closed, hoping desperately to shut out the ugly truth of the world he lived in. His mother was a witch, though she barely practiced. She only ever did things for him, never around his father. A grimace twisted his lips, hate and fear storming inside the five year-old's heart. He wanted to run from the room. He wanted to yell at his father, defend his mother, but he couldn't. He wasn't big enough, wasn't near strong enough, and the little bit of magic he could do was pitiful in comparison to what was needed.

How many times had he heard his mother whisper the words needed to glamour away the bruises his father left on her arms and face? How many times had he watched her heal the injuries that couldn't be solved by a simple glamour? The sound of her bones being set right was grating, like nails on a chalkboard, and all too familiar. The sound came again, this time followed by her voice crying out and he jumped from his bed. He reached for the door knob, a single touch burning his hand and he hissed as he jumped back. His palm was red, the color and pain receding almost immediately and he looked up at the words that appeared in the air.

_I can't let him hurt you, Severus. I love you too much for that. _

The words faded in seconds and he felt a jolt of hate shoot through him. In that moment he hated his mother, not because she had locked him in his room, but because she wouldn't defend herself. She had the power to keep him from harm, the power to heal her wounds and make things materialize out of thin air. She could use that same power to keep her _muggle_ husband from beating her, but she wouldn't and he didn't understand why.

Shaking his head as he moved to his closet, he quickly donned a pair of black trousers and a thick white shirt. The garment was still a bit too big on him, the sleeves falling down over his hands, and he rolled them up before moving to the window. He hated living here. This part of town seemed always on the verge of falling down and there weren't even any trees to aid his escape. Opening the window, he shut out the sounds behind him, focusing his mind as the book he'd pilfered from his mother's closet had taught him to. Reaching his hand outside the window, he placed his palm flat against the dingy bricks, dampened from the rain earlier that day.

"Stairs," Severus whispered, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Give me stairs."

Slightly rounded almond-shaped eyes opened wide as he watched the wall seemed to almost flutter before his eyes. He kept his hand in place, his dark onyx gaze kept careful watch as the bricks moved and formed alternating hand holds for him to grip and step on. Moving one leg from beneath him and wincing at the biting feel of the imprint left behind by the window sill, Severus carefully eased out of the window. Gripping the window ledge with one hand as he gained purchase on the bricks with his feet, he began the slow climb down to the ground below. He watched the bricks above him disappear the further down he moved and once he was standing on the ground, they recessed into the wall completely. He'd have to cast the spell once more to climb back into his window.

Slipping in a wet patch and falling to the hard ground, the sound of the crash from inside the house commanded his attention. Moving without thought, he ran to the nearest window and looked inside. He had always been locked in his room before and it was with a kind of morbid curiosity that he watched his father grab hold of his mother and throw her across the room. Her clothing was torn, her face bruised and nose bloodied. He wanted so much to yell at her and tell her to fight, but he knew she wouldn't and he didn't understand why. What good did it serve to allow that man to hit her?

Severus shook his head as he backpedaled from the window and fell to sit on the cold pavement of the alley behind their row house. He had seen his father pin his mother to the kitchen floor, the man seeming to hold her down and somehow his five year old brain discovered a truth he wished he had never known. His face fell into his hands as he leaned forward and rocked in his seat upon the cold hard ground. Even at his young age he somehow knew what his father was doing and knew it wasn't the first time. He hadn't been wanted at all, had he? He was nothing more than a consequence.

Severus screamed into his hands then, windows shattering throughout the house. He scrambled to his feet as the shattered glass landed near him and ran through the alley behind the houses until he reached the end of the street. He turned and ran in the direction of the open park, his mind focused on the tree with the hollow trunk. He didn't know why the thought of it still living and producing leaves invaded his mind just then, but it did and he couldn't let go of it. He didn't understand why a hollowed out tree could still live. By all rights the very fact that it was hollow meant that it was dead, didn't it? Small hands swiped across his eyes as he stumbled and fell.

It was in that moment that Severus Snape learned the lesson that would haunt him for the rest of his life, a lesson he never wanted to learn. Life wasn't fair and sometimes a person really was just a mistake. Sniffling back his tears, he looked up at the night sky in hopes of some kind of explanation, or perhaps it was salvation he was looking for instead. Neither would be found and he turned his eyes back down to the earth around him. The tree he had been running to was less than ten meters from him and he rose to his knees, feeling so incredibly tired as he stumbled to the only sanctuary he'd ever known.

The giant tree seemed to be welcoming him in, the leaves rustling on their branches as he stepped inside the hollow opening. It was a strange kind of comfort, how large the inside of the hollowed out tree was and he frowned as he felt something strange. There was a new scent in this place, something that hadn't been here before. It smelled like sandalwood and cherries. Had someone else found his tree? There was no evidence of anyone else having been here, no things left behind, but there was a feeling.

Closing his eyes as he sat down on the packed earth floor, he whispered the words he had found in one of his mother's spell books. Opening his eyes, he watched as a large pillow appeared before him, a heavy blanket with it and he moved slowly as he laid down. Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, he kicked off his shoes and rested his head and torso on the pillow, hugging it to him as he sought comfort. The blanket seemed to tighten around him, the pillow swelling beneath him and it felt in some manner as though he were being hugged.

It was with a whimper that they began and he turned his face into the pillow as the sobs broke from within him. He was deaf to the sound of his own tears, the broken keening sounding in the night like some kind of tortured spirit left to haunt the world without rest or peace. He beat one small fist against the pillow angrily, wanting desperately to lash out at someone, but had no target for the emotions storming within him. It wasn't fair. The only thing he'd ever wanted in life and he would never have it. He just wanted to be loved.

Sniffling and wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve, Severus turned his head, pressing his damp cheek against the tearstained pillow. Blinking in the darkness, he remained motionless as his tears exhausted him and he was finally granted the peacefulness of a dreamless sleep.

**:::::**

It was two days before Severus found the will to move from under the safety of his conjured blanket. Sitting up from his reclined position, he frowned when his eyes caught an unusual gleam on the hollowed out wall of the tree. He would've sworn it looked like a handprint, a bit smaller than his and the fingers had been a bit narrower, too. He moved on his hands and knees, crawling toward the handprint that he could barely see and lifted his hand up to trace it with his finger. He followed the outline of the print curiously before letting his fingertip drift inside the shape.

His lips parted in a silent gasp as he pulled his hand back from the print sharply. He looked down at his hand wondering if the strange tingling sensation had left any kind of mark, but found none. He didn't understand the feeling, it felt…good. The strange sensation that had left his fingers tingling was now working its way up his fingers and through his hand. He felt…warm. Lifting his hand back to the print, he stretched out his hand and placed his palm over the print.

He closed his eyes as he left his hand in place, his breath coming faster as his eyes stung. He didn't know who had been in his tree, but whoever it was had left him behind something beautiful. The tingle had spread throughout his entire body, the tickle of energy making him feel warm, safe and wanted. This…was this what it felt like to be loved? He kept his hand pressed against the tree as he leaned forward and touched his forehead to the back of his hand. He'd never felt this warmth before, this sense of peace and care.

The tears stinging behind his eyes made their way down his cheeks as he sat there holding onto the wall of the hollowed out tree. All of the things he had seen in his five years, all of the darkness that had weighed down his heart seemed to be lifting from him. All of this because of a handprint, he thought because someone had left part of themselves behind for him. He understood more about magic than most people, he knew that to leave a mark like this didn't come from a spell, it came from the heart.

"Who are you?" Severus asked aloud as he looked up and pulled his hand back from the smooth wall of the tree. "Who are you to leave such a mark? You're no muggle that's for sure."

He knew that he had to go home, he couldn't stay here forever. Standing up slowly, he looked up and shook his head. He still didn't understand how the tree had life. The tree was large enough that he could summon his father's armchair and still have room to move around inside. It was also high enough that he was certain a full grown man would have no problem standing up straight inside. How was this tree still living? Looking back at the wall, his lips pulled up to one side as he looked at the hand print. Did this person know what they had done? Did they have any idea what they'd given him?

Moving back to kneel in front of it, he lifted his left hand, placing it next to the right-handed print and closed his eyes. He focused on the place where his hand met the wall. He thought of what he would want this person to feel from his handprint, his gratitude for what they had left behind. What he left instead was something he never meant for anyone to know. While his mind was focused, his heart was not, his loneliness and pain filling him to the brim. The palm of his hand glowed slightly, a momentary red stain of light left behind before it was gone in the blink of an eye. He would never know that it was his pain he had left on the wall for the other person to find.

Taking in a deep breath, Severus stood from his kneeling position and walked out of his secret hideaway. He looked back inside the hollow tree, reluctant to leave the sanctuary it provided him, and made certain that any evidence of his having been there was gone. His spirits fell as a great rumbling sounded above him and he looked up to see the blue sky darken to grey. He'd have to run if he wanted to get home without getting caught in the rain. The problem was, he didn't want to go home. He couldn't stand the thought of going back to hear his mother being beaten, to hear her cry. It was harder still to be the ignored one, the person that was only ever spoken to when something was wrong.

He moved away from the tree that felt more like a home to him than the four walls and roof he lived under. He knew he didn't have a choice of whether or not to run home, the rain already beginning to drip down on him and he sighed as he fisted his hands. His feet moved under him quickly, the heels of his shoes slipping in the wet grass as he ran. By the time he reached his house on Spinner's End his clothing was soaked, the rain cold enough to leave him shivering. The first thing he noticed was that the lights in the parlor were on. The second thing he noticed was that his mother and father seemed to be talking to each other amicably.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he walked further into the house, his clothes dripping on the hardwood and threadbare carpeting as he went. Neither of his parents took any notice of him, even when he stood in front of them and he wondered what was wrong with them. Moving past them to the stairs, he traveled up to his bedroom and found that his mother had removed the magical lock from his door. He stepped inside quietly, still nervous about the abnormal behavior of his parents and went into the bathroom to change.

He took a shower, being careful not to take too long under the hot water. He didn't know when or if his parents would respond to him being home, but his biggest fear wasn't the 'when' or the 'if', it was the 'how'. He was dried and dressed by the time either of his parents had moved from downstairs. His mother was the first one up the stairs, followed closely by his father, but neither one of them acted as though they saw him. He frowned and called out to his mother, but she never responded. It was as though they couldn't see or hear him, like he didn't exist.

He knew that he wasn't dead or any kind of ghost, he thought he certainly would have remembered that. So why were his parents acting so strange? His stomach growled; the reminder of not having eaten for two days clawing at him and he gave up his curiosity as he went in search of food instead. The fresh socks adorning his small feet weren't enough to keep him warm, even with the sweater and sleep pants he was now dressed in. Stepping into the kitchen as he rubbed his arms against the cold, he opened the refrigerator and stopped.

The shelves were empty. He opened the drawers and the covers on the small compartments on the door, but everything was empty. There had been food filling this fridge the day he'd left so where had it all gone? He closed the appliance and opened the top freezer, but it was the same way – completely empty. He moved next to the cabinets, the one that always held the cold cereals, but that was empty as well. Where was all the food? He was so hungry, but there wasn't a thing to eat, not even bread for toast.

He opened each and every drawer and cupboard only to find nothing. There was no fruit, no snacks, not even a packet of soup crackers. Swallowing thickly as tears stung at his eyes, he turned and made his way back up to his room. There was no way that all the food could simply be gone which meant that he wasn't able to see it. The only person who had the power and knowledge to do something like that was his mother, but he couldn't understand why she would. What would it gain either of his parents to hide the food from him?

He moved back up the stairs slowly, desperately tired and achingly hungry. Closing his bedroom door, he moved to his bed and climbed between the blankets as he laid down on his side. The softness of his bed and the warmth of the blanket were no comfort to him, the ache in his head and heart taking that away. His stomach growled again, the sound almost vicious and he wrapped his arms around himself as he pulled his knees to his chest. All he wanted was a normal family, a family that loved him. Was that too much to ask?

**:::::**

Severus didn't know how long he'd been asleep when he found himself startled awake as he was being thrown from his bed. Long fingers were curled around his sweater as severely as hawk's talons, and he feared the rage in his father's face. The man stunk of whiskey and something else, something darker and almost spiced. He looked at his father, the man's dark eyes the same as his own, and tried to understand the slurred angry words he was speaking. Spittle came from the man's mouth as Severus was thrown the air and the child cried out as his back hit the wall of his bedroom before he fell to the floor.

"What is this?!" the man shouted, the words broken and slurred together. "I told that bitch you weren't to be fed and here I find an apple in your room?" Tobias Snape shook the red fruit in his hand before throwing it into the hall, a dull thump heard as the apple hit the wall and fell to the floor. "If you don't want to li-live here, you d-don't eat!" he shouted, hiccupping through the last few words before falling in a heap to the ground.

Severus backed away quickly when his father fell, the man's hooked nose landing near his socked feet, and stood frozen as he stared at him. This wasn't the first time he'd seen his father pass out from too much drink, but there had been times in the past when he'd moved only to find the man wasn't truly asleep. He waited with baited breath as he watched his father and finally moved when he began to snore. Stepping carefully over the man's body, he ran down the hallway to his parents' bedroom in search of his mother, but she wasn't there.

Running back down the hall, Severus came to a stop just before the open door of his bedroom and skirted the edge of wall slowly as he did his best to keep far away from his passed out father. Once he was passed his bedroom, he began running once more and made his way downstairs as he searched for his mother. He found her in the small parlor, the books lining the shelves old and worn. These were their books, his and his mother's, books of magic and spells and potions. He stepped toward the fireplace slowly; the chair his mother was seated in turned away from him, and moved around to see her face.

She was sleeping, he found or at least it looked like she was. She was still breathing, he could see that, but there was a large bruise on her face with a weeping cut just below her left eye. She'd been hit again. H's small hands balled into fists and he thought about going back upstairs and returning the beating to his father, but knew he'd never survive the encounter if he did. He left his mother sleeping in the chair and went to the bookshelf across the room. His father thought that these were books of literature and romance, two things he detested, but hated less than magic. Lifting his hand as high as he could, he reached out for the book that was covered in aged black leather and pulled it down off the shelf.

The title was etched in Latin and though he had begun to learn a few words, he didn't know what the words on the front of the book meant. Opening the cover, he looked inside and found himself fascinated by the first paragraph of the page. '_The Dark Arts are many and varied. They can change as easily as the winds in a storm or be as steady and unmoving as the mountains of the earth. You can learn to defend yourself against your enemies, ensnare the minds of those who oppose you, or even curse those who would seek to do you harm.'_

He read the lines a second and a third time as his mind turned the words over with curiosity. Did this mean that he could learn to protect his mother? Did learning the Dark Arts mean he would never have to be afraid again? He turned around swiftly when the book was snatched out of his hands and found his mother standing behind him. She had glamoured away the marks from her face, but he found that if he narrowed his eyes and focused, he could almost see them.

"You're not old enough for this, Severus," she cautioned him. "The Dark Arts are called dark for a reason."

"You spelled the kitchen," he accused, his young face held in a stubborn expression.

"He threatened to hurt you if I didn't," she told him and watched his skin flush with anger. "Severus…"

"You have all this power, but you won't use it!" he yelled at her and watched as she flicked her wand at the door, the aged wood closing tight.

"I can't!" she told him desperately and knelt down to look into his eyes. "Severus, if I use magic against your father they will take me away!" she told him and gripped his arms tight as she shook him. "Do you understand?"

"No, I don't!" he squirmed out of her grip. "Who would take you away?"

"The Ministry of Magic," she told him, scrubbing her hands over her face and wincing at her hidden injury. "Severus, it is forbidden for a witch or wizard to use magic on a muggle even – and especially – if they're your family. I would be taken away to Azkaban Prison and you would never see me again."

"Then why can't we just leave him?!" Severus asked her as angry and frustrated tears filled his eyes.

"Where would we go? I have no money and no place in the muggle world," she shook her head as she stepped to the shelves and replaced the book.

"Your family!" Severus insisted and watched as his mother's shoulders fell in defeat. "Why can't we go see them? I've never even met them."

"Sev…" She sighed heavily as she fell to sit on the floor and opened her arms to her son. "We can't go to them."

"Why not?" he asked as he let her pull him down to sit in her lap.

"When I met your father, he was a very different man and I fell in love with him. Our family – the Prince family, has been pureblood for longer than most other families have. My father forbade the relationship, but when I announced we were getting married, he disowned me. There's no one to go to, Severus. You and me, that's all either of us have," she told him sadly.

"What if he kills you?" Severus asked, his voice trembling.

"I hope we never have to find out," she answered. "I'm going to start teaching you the tricks to see through the charms I've put in place. It's hard work and it takes a lot of focus. We'll only have time when your father is working at the mill."

"Unless they sack him," he grumbled.

"Severus," she warned his attitude.

"He's always drinking," he protested her chastisement.

"I know," she sighed heavily. "Just do what you can to stay out of his way. Don't talk back to him or make him angry."

"I breathe and he gets angry," he mumbled and his mother sighed.

"Go," she moved him off her lap. "Walk five paces that way and then sit down facing me."

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Severus, do as I say," she commanded and watched as he followed her instruction. "Now, close your eyes and empty your mind. The only thing I want you to think about is not being seen."

"Not being seen?" he arched a brow in question.

"It's the invisible game," she told him. "Just close your eyes and empty your mind."

Severus took in a deep breath, his anger still pumping through him, and closed his eyes. It wasn't easy to gain control of his emotions. It certainly wasn't something a normal five year old would even have practice at doing, but he did. Focusing on the hollow tree he found sanctuary in, Severus let the thought of it fill his mind. He felt his anger leave him slowly, the sight and feel of tree filling his mind and leaving him with a sense of peace. He understood what his mother wanted him to do, but no matter how easy a task it sounded, it was a difficult process. He had to let each emotion into himself in order to gain control of it and the hardest of them was the resentment he felt toward his parents.

His father was a violent man, a person who disliked everything if only because he couldn't have the power he desired. He wanted to strike back at the man for all of the pain he'd put his mother through and opened his eyes when he heard the woman cry out in surprise. The book of Dark Arts was in her hands again, though it was clear to him that she hadn't moved from where she sat on the floor. Her startled gaze turned to him with a displeased moue, her bow arching in silent reprimand. Nodding once as he closed his eyes again, Severus took in a deep breath and released it slowly through his nose as he pushed all manner of thought away.

What was it she had told him? His furrowed brow relaxed as he remembered her instruction and focused his mind on being unseen. It wasn't as simple as muggle children would believe it to be. He couldn't simply put his hands over his eyes and say 'you can't see me'. No, Severus understood what his mother hadn't told him, he had to focus on the idea that his father couldn't see him. In order to be unseen, he would have to alter one of two things: the physical world around him or his muggle father's perception of the world.

Eileen watched as her son sat in front of her, his brows furrowed in concentration. She knew that Severus was smart, knew that he was much like her and her mother when it came to magic. Sweat began to bead on his brow and she wondered if he was perhaps too young to practice this kind of magic when the air around him began to ripple. She watched him with pride, her breath held as his skin looked to be disappearing before her eyes. She smiled as she stared at the spot where she knew him to be sitting and saw nothing but empty space. Turning her head to the side, she could still see him from the corner of her eyes and laughed with delight.

"Severus, that's good. That's very good," she praised him and watched as he instantly reappeared before her. "Headache?" she asked when he whimpered and pressed the heels of his hands to his temples.

"It feels like my head is splitting apart," he told her as his eyes drooped tiredly.

"It will get easier with time," she promised him and hugged him close. "Alright, that's enough for tonight. Now, go to the table by the lamp and open the drawer," she instructed him and watched him rise unsteadily to his feet.

"Ginger creams?" Severus asked as he pulled the prepackaged Fox's biscuits from the drawer.

"Consider it a treat," she told him softly. "Why don't we sleep in here tonight, Severus and in the morning I'll teach you how to see through concealment charms."

"Why don't you just take it down?" he asked and saw her sigh.

"Someday you'll understand, Severus," she said softly as she conjured a pile of pillows and blankets, "that having power is sometimes worse than having none at all."

He didn't understand her meaning, believing those with magic to be far better than muggles. Frowning as he watched her lay down carefully and hold her hand out for him to join her, he felt as though there was so much that she wasn't telling him. Letting her tuck him into the blankets next to her, Severus laid his head down and closed his eyes, exhaustion taking him immediately into the world of dreams. Eileen looked down on her son, brushing a lock of his dark hair back from his face and pursed her lips as tears filled her eyes.

He was too young to understand that having power meant you couldn't always use that power. Leaning down to kiss her son's forehead, she smiled sadly. It was worse still when someone knew you had that power, but didn't understand its limitations and wanted you to do the impossible. How many times had Tobias commanded her to make them rich with a flick of her wand and how many times had he beaten her for telling him that it couldn't be done? When she had revealed that she was a witch to them on their first wedding anniversary, Tobias had gotten the idea into his mind that he would no longer have to work at all.

Her husband's belief that she could simply conjure them money or create all the things that they could want from magic had driven him to gamble away the small fortune she had been able to squander away. When they were broke and his job at the firm he'd been with before he'd known of her magic had refused to hire him back, he had been forced to take a job at the textile mill. It was worse that they had been forced out of the home they could no longer afford and into this one. The drinking had started shortly after they'd moved into their house on Spinner's End and the violence had come shortly thereafter.

"I pray that you never know the pain of falling in love with a muggle, Severus," she whispered to her sleeping son. "I hope you are able to make a better life for yourself than the one you have now."


	2. Chapter 2

When Darkness Falls

Book One: The Story of Severus Snape

Chapter 2

Eileen smiled down on her son and kissed his forehead as the sun began to stream through the film-covered window behind them. Running her hand through the hair at his temple, she watched as he woke. His dark eyes blinked up at her in confusion before his expression darkened into one of sadness and anger. She wanted to tell him that being angry would help no one, serve no purpose, but she knew he wouldn't listen. Moving back as he sat up, she waited for him to speak and followed his gaze when his eyes turned toward the door. The charms were still in place, locking it from any kind of muggle entry and muffling it from the outside so that the room was soundproofed.

"He's already left for work, Severus," Eileen told her son and watched as he stood.

He didn't speak as he raised a hand to his hair and grimaced at the feel of the natural oils thickening the strands. It was another thing he had to hate his muggle father for, Severus thought. Just like the man from whom he'd received his looks, his hair would become greasy in appearance and feel, especially at the scalp, if it wasn't washed at least once a day. Looking back when his mother encouraged him to shower and change into other clothes, he watched as she took down the charms and locks on the door.

Walking up the stairs, he gathered a towel from the hall closet before stepping into the bathroom. Moving toward the tub, he turned the taps and raised the tiny metal stick to start the shower before turning to the sink and the mirror above it. He hated looking in the mirror because all he saw was his father. They shared the same pale face, the same dark eyes and hooked nose. There were times that he thought the only part of his mother to exist within him was her magic. It was hard to look at himself, to see his reflection and not the face of the man who beat and yelled at his mother instead.

"Severus," his mother called to him from outside the door.

"Yes, mother?" he spoke quietly.

"Do you need any help with the shower?" she asked and he pursed his lips.

"No," he answered shortly, his voice quiet and guarded. "I've been washing myself for almost a year now."

"I know," she replied sadly. "You would tell me if he hurt you?" she asked through the door.

_What good would it do?_ he thought. "Of course," he spoke and undressed, looking down at the bruises his sleep clothes had hidden. "Isn't there a potion to help with my hair?" he asked with annoyance and heard her answering chuckle.

"Your father asked the same thing of me once," she told him and he scowled darkly. "No, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but there isn't. Although, there are potions that could remove your hair," she offered with humor and he snorted in response.

"Because being bald would be so much better," he groused and listened to her laugh. "I'll be done in a bit, mother."

"Meet me in the kitchen once you're dressed," she instructed him. "I'll begin teaching you how to see through charms. It's difficult work, but I have faith in you."

He listened to the floorboards creak as she moved away from the door and opened the shower curtain only to pull back at the sight of the spider in the bottom of the tub. His lips pulled back in disgust as he looked down on the creature and he spoke quickly a spell he had read in one of his mother's books. Watching as the creature curled in on itself, he waited for it to wash down the drain before stepping into the shower. He hated that they were forced to live in this part of town. Blaming his muggle father for their living conditions, there were times he wished the man dead if only so that he and his mother could live in peace.

He had found the old book, the one with the fine leather and silk covering. He had read through it and discovered that the Prince family was a well-known and quite wealthy pureblood family in the wizarding world. Had his father been a wizard and not a muggle they wouldn't be living like thieves and rats. His clothing wouldn't be mismatched, too big, or threadbare. Sighing as he shampooed his hair into a thick lather, he let the soap sit for almost five minutes before rinsing it out and then repeated the process. He hated the feel of having greasy hair and knew that other children thought he had gone long periods without washing when they saw it.

Closing his eyes as he tipped his head back to rinse his hair, he refused to even lift the bottle of conditioner. He wouldn't touch it all, seeing no point in adding more oil to his hair. Standing beneath the shower, he pinched a lock of wet hair between his fingers and pulled down to hear the soft squeak that meant it was clean and free of oil. It was clean for now and that was what mattered, but he knew that by the time he would be ready for bed his hair would be greasy again. His eyes were closed when he reached for the bar of soap that usually sat on the small plastic shelf and he frowned when he found it missing.

Opening his eyes, Severus looked at the shelf before opening the shower curtain just enough to stick his head out of it. He narrowed his gaze on the sink, focusing his mind on the small bar of soap that was little more than the size of a shilling, and watched as it rose slowly into the air. He pulled the soap closer to him, smiling in satisfaction when it fell gently into his hand. It didn't take him long to finish washing, his nose wrinkling at the harsh feel of the film left behind by the cheap soap, and he turned off the water with a hard twist. His brow furrowed as he stepped out of the tub and reached for the half-threadbare towel he'd brought with him.

He could almost make out his father's voice when he focused on the sounds coming from downstairs. He reached for his clothes, dressing slowly as he listened to the tone of his parents' voices. He couldn't make out what was being said, and a moment later he heard the slamming of the front door. Taking up his discarded clothes and damp towel, Severus left the bathroom quickly and dropped the laundry into the hamper in the hall before moving downstairs. He was worried for his mother, scared that she had been hurt again, but found her sitting in the parlor with a smile on her face.

"Mother?" Severus watched her cautiously as he moved slowly into the room. "I heard father," he said and waited for her to respond before stepping away from doorway.

"He's gone," she assured him and stood from the chair. "Come, I have a bit of a surprise for you."

"Is something…Is everything alright?" he asked her as he moved slowly into the room.

"Everything is fine," she promised him and held out her hand for him to take. "Your father," she said with a hint of a smile, "has been called down to the factory's new office in Dover. It's not too far away, really, but he will be spending the next few days in the city."

"Next few days?" Severus asked with a suspicious narrowing of his eyes. It was too much to hope that the man would stay away and he knew it.

"Yes." She hugged Severus close. "You and I are on our own for today, tomorrow, and quite possibly the day after. Now, take these," Eileen said and put a collection of gold coins in his hand and he frowned.

"What are these?" Severus asked as he studied the shiny coins in his hand.

"Those are Galleons," she smiled. "Wizard's money. I thought you and I could spend the day in Diagon Alley."

Severus tucked the strange gold coins into his pocket before looking up at her in confusion. How would they get to Diagon Alley? The place was in London and well hidden from what she had once told him as a bedtime story. She smiled again as she stood and held out her hand for him to take. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to do, but the very moment he put his hand in hers, the world around him spun and shifted until it was little more than streams of color and light. He felt sick when they stilled and looked up when his mother kissed his forehead.

"We're not in the house anymore," he said softly as he adjusted to the vertigo and saw her smile.

"No, we're not," she agreed. "We're in Diagon Alley and that was called apparitioning. Come on; let's have a spot of breakfast at the tea shop."

Eileen led her son down the cobblestone streets until they came to a small shop with offset glass windows that shimmered in the low light of the grey sky morning. Opening the door and smiling at the familiar chime that she remembered from her childhood, she led him to a table in the back. It wasn't but a moment later that a woman came up to them and set down a steaming pot of tea with two cups and saucers and plate of small scones. Eileen smiled and opened her bag to retrieve the coins needed, but found her money refused.

"Madam Risano will not hear of you paying this morning," the woman told her with a smile. "She asked that you see her before you and your young Prince leave here."

"Thank you, Ella," Eileen smiled gently. "I will."

Severus watched as the young woman left their table, his eyes turning to his mother when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes. Blinking away the moisture quickly, Eileen gave her son a bittersweet smile and reached out to tuck his hair back from his face. She explained to Severus that the last time she had been in this shop was the day she had told her parents she would be marrying a muggle. The fallout between them had been almost cruel and it had been Madam Risano that had given her a place to stay until she and Tobias had been able to move in together.

"Mother," Severus frowned as he picked at his scone, his gaze focused on the food as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "Are there different kinds of magic? I mean…different kinds of wandless magic?" he asked and looked up slowly.

"There are, I suppose," Eileen agreed softly. "Perhaps you could tell me what you're thinking of."

"I don't…I don't know how to…" He frowned darkly at the table before looking back up at his mother. "Is it possible for someone to leave a piece of themselves behind?"

"In what manner?" she asked him, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Let's say that I knew you were hurting and I wanted to…to leave something behind for you. If I pressed my hand against a wall or table," he looked down at the brown wooden table top between them, "and I thought of what I wanted you to feel…Love or-or comfort…" he trailed off and looked up at her with a question in his dark eyes.

"You're talking about old magic," she told him with a slow nod, her eyes wide.

"Old magic?" Severus repeated with a shake of his head.

"You won't find it in any book or taught in any classroom, but there is a kind of magic that is known as _Old_ magic. It takes no spells or wands or herbs." She smiled and encouraged him to eat before continuing. "You see old magic existed before time, before language or potions. Old magic is created from pure emotion and was borne of four elements."

"Air, Earth, Fire and Water," Severus said and Eileen laughed gently.

"No." She shook her head and smiled. "Love, hate, anger, and fear. Each of these four elements was powerful on its own, but love was always the strongest. You see, love was divided was into four parts of its own: Parental love, Pure love, romantic love, and the love between friends."

"What is pure love?" he asked as he lifted his tea cup to his lips.

"Pure love is…it is untouchable, unbreakable, and cannot be torn asunder by any manner of dark magic." She looked at her son and wondered if he truly understood what she was explaining to him. He was mature and brilliant, yes, but he was only five years old. "Pure love comes without any expectation of it being returned. It is immeasurable and can give someone the strength to battle an army in another's defense, or lay down their life in sacrifice. It transcends time and distance. Pure love, you see, is the strongest of all the divisions of love because it is the one kind of love that contains all the elements of old magic. It is what turns fear into courage, anger into peace, and hate into a willingness to compromise. Pure love cannot be manufactured or falsified."

"So, pure love is strong enough to do anything?" he asked slowly as he tried to understand all that she had said.

"Just about," Eileen nodded. "Let me tell you a story. Now, this is something that was once legend, but is barely more than a bedtime fairytale now. Most witches and wizards don't believe in it, but I've always loved it." She took in a deep breath and smiled gently. "You may be too young to understand, but I hope that someday you do."

She took a sip of her tea and smiled when the girl who had brought them their food and drink refilled the tea pot for her before sitting down with them. She had known Ella back in school and had remembered the nights when she was asked to tell this particular story. Sipping at the fresh tea in her cup, she blew gently at the steam before taking another sip and setting it down. Her eyes turned back to her son as she drew in a breath and began to speak.

"This story is called The Two Loves of Jasper," she said with a smile. "Back before time was measured by man and well before words became spells, there was a man named Jasper who walked the earth alone. Jasper was a strong man, a good man who had fought many battles so that others could live in peace, but had never found peace for himself."

Severus listened closely as she told him of the man who had lived a harsh life, the battles he endured making him believe he would never be worthy of love. He had fought for so many years, seen so much death and dealt killing blows himself that Jasper believed his soul to be tainted. One day he was walking through the fields as he left the town he had been in to travel to another. It was nearing dusk when the man realized he was no longer walking alone and found a beautiful woman traveling beside him on the path.

"Jasper asked the woman why she followed him," Eileen said and smiled at the dreamy expression on her school friend's face. "She said, 'I am not following you. I am walking with you.' Jasper didn't understand the difference, but as the days passed and they stayed together, he found his heart and hers becoming one. Their love was deep and true. They were meant to be joined in the ceremony of that time, but before they could be, they were attacked. She could see that one of the men attacking them was set to kill Jasper. She couldn't stand the thought of losing him and threw herself between Jasper and his attacker."

"She killed herself?" Severus asked as he looked at his mother. "How does that prove anything?"

Eileen chuckled softly. "She didn't kill herself, Severus. She sacrificed her life to save the man that she loved. Jasper felt broken as he held her in his arms. Her hands were covered in her own blood when she lifted them to his face and promised that he would never be alone. It was because of her sacrifice that the men attacking them were rendered powerless, but all he wanted was to join her in death."

"But if she died, than he was alone. She broke her promise," Severus said, his brow furrowed as he thought his mother and the woman sitting with them to be foolish for loving this story.

"He was alone for quite some time, yes," Eileen nodded. "Jasper spent almost twenty years engaging in battles, saving towns and villages from thieves and scoundrels. His heart remained heavy with her death each day that he woke and he swore that he would love only her until time itself ended. One day as he was leaving a town he had saved from a dragon, he found that someone was following him. He turned around and readied for the attack, but found that it was a young girl following him. He knew that she was half his age, possibly younger, but a woman she was. She did not look upon him with fear or distrust, but kindness and love instead. Jasper stilled and lowered his weapon. He turned to her and asked 'Why are you following me?' and the woman said 'I am not following you. I am walking with you.' You see, Severus, Jasper's first love had sent him another."

"Why did it take so long?" Severus asked and both women chuckled.

"A love like that is not easily found. To send Jasper another woman who would love him as deeply and purely as she had, his first love had to wait and watch." Eileen smiled as she stood from her chair. "She sent him a love that she knew would save him not only from the world, but from himself as well. His second love was pure of heart and very strong indeed. She knew that they would stand the test of time and be true to one another without question or compromise." Eileen looked at the young woman sitting at the table. "Would you mind staying with him while I go talk with Madam Rosina?"

"I'll be here, 'Leen," she smiled. "The young Prince and I will have plenty of fun."

**:::::**

Eileen looked down on her son as they made their way out of Obscurus Books and frowned at the expression on his face. Leading him over to a bench down the street, she sat down and waited for Severus to sit as well. She turned to him, hoping that he would tell her what was wrong only to sigh softly when he remained silent instead. She touched his hand, tucked his hair behind his ear and turned his head toward her gently to see his face. Her lips turned down in sadness when she saw the pain he couldn't hide in his dark eyes and wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh, Severus," Eileen mourned his pain. "What's wrong?"

"People know us here," he said when he sat back from their hug. "They respect us here and this," he took the coins out of his pocket. "We're so much more here than we are out there with those…_muggles_," he spat the word angrily. "Why can't we just stay here?"

"Severus." Eileen sighed as she looked down at their joined hands. "This is our world, yes. This is where we truly belong, but this is not our home. I made a commitment to your father and we have a home – "

"That's not a home!" Severus protested sharply as he stood from the bench and stood ready to run. "It's a prison."

"We could stay at the Leaky Cauldron tonight," she offered him as she fought against the tears pricking behind her eyes. "But only tonight, we will have to go home in the morning."

"Why can't we just stay?" he asked softly and Eileen felt her heart break. "Muggle families leave all the time."

"That's not how it works in our world, my love," she said and kissed her son's brow. "We don't abandon our families."

"Even when he hits you?" Severus asked and watched his mother sit back in surprise at the anger in his voice.

"Nothing is so simple," she said as her expression fell into one of misery and pain.

"Why not?" he whispered and watched as a single tear slipped down her cheek.

"He has intimate knowledge about our world," she said softly. "He knows just enough to be a threat and if he did expose our world, I would be the one held accountable."

"What does that mean?" Severus asked as he watched her wipe away her tear and hide her pain behind a sad smile.

"It means that if he successfully revealed our world to the muggles, I would be the person made to stand trial. I would be sent to Azkaban. Marrying muggles is frowned upon not simply because they're non-magical, but because if there is a bad split they pose a threat to us." Eileen sat quietly for a moment. "The only reason a witch or wizard marries a muggle is for love."

"But the book said the Prince family is a pureblood line," he said with confusion and Eileen nodded.

"It is, but pureblood marriages are arranged," she told him softly. "I refused to be bound to someone I didn't know."

"So you married someone who beat you?" he asked her, their conversation kept private with a simple charm.

"He wasn't always the way he is now, Severus. There was a time when he was good and kind, but…he changed," she told him softly. "I told him who I was – what I was. The expectations he had couldn't be met and he changed almost overnight."

"So now he hates everything? Hates us?" Severus shook his head. "That isn't fair."

"No, it's not and I'm sorry you have to grow up around it. If I had a safe place to send you, I would." She wrapped her arms around Severus and held him tightly as she fought against the need to cry. "Why don't we pick up a few treats for you from the Sweet shop and then we'll settle in for the night at the Leaky Cauldron?"

Severus nodded, though he remained quiet. He had always blamed her before for not fighting back, but he'd never realized how trapped she'd been. Standing from the bench and listening as his mother spoke the word needed to remove the muffling charm, he looked across the street without taking notice of anything. Life wasn't fair at all. He'd thought it wasn't fair to him, but he realized then that the person who had it the worst was his mother. She wanted to protect him, but to do so she had to ignore him when his father was around. She took the abuse his father dealt because she had no way out.

Closing his eyes slowly as he followed her down to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop, he blinked away the pain, the anger, and the fear. Whether it was fair or not, whether they both wanted so badly to escape or not, they were both trapped. There was nothing that could be done and no one they could turn to. Breathing in deeply and looking up at his mother, he watched as she turned her gaze down to him and gave him a soft nod of approval. His face held no emotion, though his eyes held a strange kind of fire that was neither anger nor passion. Even at such a young age, Severus understood that there was no point in fighting against something he clearly lacked the power to change. No one could fix this or make it right.

"I think I would like to try the chocolate frogs," he told her as they stepped into the store and watched her nod.

It had become a silent agreement between them in those few moments. What was happening at home couldn't be changed and there was no hope for it to get better. They wouldn't talk about it anymore. They wouldn't even mention it or hint at it. From this moment on the only thing they would do, would be to work on staying out of his father's way and make certain that his use of wandless magic would be strong enough to protect himself with. Severus followed his mother out of the sweet shop a few moments later with his bag of treats in hand and frowned when they turned away from the direction that would take them to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Before we settle down tonight, I want to make certain that you have your own key made," she told him when he questioned her.

"Key for what?" Severus asked, looking up at the crooked building in front of them. "Gringotts?" he read the sign aloud to himself.

"The key for my vault. I'm leaving you my inheritance and I want to know that you have access to it. I'll never return to this world, Severus, but you will," she said and held open the stone and brass door for him to enter first.

"Mum, what are they?" Severus asked quietly as he looked around at the strange creatures with large ears, sharp teeth and dark eyes.

"Goblins, Severus. They're talented with money and keeping important things safe." Stepping up to the front counter, she looked up at the goblin and asked for the manager.

"Ah, yes," the older goblin said as he looked down over the high counter at Severus. "A key for the young Prince. Come, come we shall have it made."

"Mum?" Severus spoke quietly as they followed the goblin down a darkened hall. "Why does he keep looking at you like that?"

Eileen sighed sadly. "It's not a well-known fact, Severus, but most goblins can see through glamours."

"Then he knows…" his voice trailed off as he glanced at the goblin's back and then up at his mother.

"He knows I've been hurt, but not by who or why," she told him and offered a nervous smile as they were led into a back room. "How long will it take?" she asked as they were bid to sit down.

"Not long at all," the manager assured her and looked at Severus. "Since he's too young to use a wand as identification, I'll need either a lock of his hair or a bit of his blood."

"Blood," Severus said as he met the goblin's gaze. "It's more powerful," he said, refusing to admit that he was ashamed of the way his hair produced oils so easily.

"Blood it is," the goblin said and moved toward him with a jeweled knife. "_Sine dolore_," the goblin spoke before cutting into Severus' palm.

"Strange, I should have felt that," he said as he glanced at the red liquid weeping from the shallow cut.

"_Sine dolore_," Eileen said softly. "It's a spell that takes away pain, but only works for minor injuries such as this."

"So, if I were to break my arm?" he asked and watched his mother smile.

"You'd need a potion and a medi-witch," she told him with a chuckle. "The blood they're collecting here will go into two places, the first being inside the silver key he'll be making you. The second," she tucked his hair behind his ear, "will be added to the lock on our vault door."

"Is this a standard practice?" Severus asked, turning his attention on the goblin.

"No, certainly not," the goblin answered as he closed the vial of Severus' blood in his hand and cast a quick healing charm to repair the cut. "It is only done by special request."

"I received my inheritance when I turned seventeen, before I met your father. My vault was just like anyone else's until my family made it clear how they felt about my involvement with a muggle. I had the blood security added as a measure to prevent anyone from Polyjuicing their way in. This money is yours, Severus and no one can take that away," she promised him and kissed his head.

"How much?" he asked curiously, the words spoken slowly.

"Well, let's just put it this way. You'll never want for anything," she promised him. "What is this about a break in?" she asked when she spotted the Daily Prophet sitting on the desk beside them.

"Your vault is blood-sealed," the manager reminded her as he watched her read the paper.

"But that doesn't mean it can't be forcibly broken into," she said thoughtfully.

"Your vault was checked along with the others," he assured her. "I will take you there now, seeing as we need to activate his key."

She stood from the chair, following the bank manager down the hall with her son by her side. It didn't take them long to reach the enchanted carts and she listened as Severus laughed when the cart was propelled into a downward spiral on its tracks. His laughter was something she rarely heard and she treasured every moment it sounded. He was nothing like his father. It was only in his appearance that he resembled the man and she was grateful for that. Smoothing down her son's hair as the cart came to a stop; Eileen stood and helped Severus up to the stone platform.

"Vault six-hundred and thirty-four," the goblin announced as they stepped up the enchanted door. "Here, put your key in," he said handing the newly minted silver key to Severus. "Right there, that's right."

Turning the key in the heavy lock, Severus felt certain the metal would snap under the strain and was surprised when it didn't. Goblin-made things couldn't be broken; his mother told him and smiled when he arched his brow. The heavy door opened and Eileen stepped inside only to still as she looked at the paltry sum of coins lying on the floor. She turned to the manager with rage in her eyes and asked where the money she had was. The last time she had opened the vault there had been stacks upon stacks of gold, enough so that Severus would never have to worry about anything.

"Oscar Prince contested the inheritance four years ago," the goblin told her. "He contested the claim to it and due to the contracts we have for the Prince family, he won. What is left is that which was rightfully yours."

"He contested it?" Eileen said, her voice barely a whisper and sounding as though her breath had been taken from her. "He truly hates me."

"Mother, who is Oscar Prince?" Severus asked and saw the look of hopelessness in her eyes.

"Your grandfather," she told him and looked away as she blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes. "My father," she said softly and turned to the goblin. "Four years ago, you said?" she asked and watched him nod. "Why wasn't I informed?"

"A goblin would've had to make the notification and we are not allowed to go into muggle dwellings," he said primly and she nodded slowly.

"No, no of course you're not," she agreed absently. "It looks like we'll have just enough to get you the clothes you'll need when you start school," she said as she assessed the number of coins. "You'll have to use my old books and cauldron. It's a good thing I never got rid of them."

She turned her son around and exited the vault, watching as it was closed and locked. Stepping back into the cart, she was grateful to the darkness of the ride as it hid her tears on the way back to the bank lobby. She had truly hoped that her son would have a better life – a richer life – in the wizarding world than he did in the muggle world, but even that had been robbed from him. How many more disappointments would her son have to suffer for the mistakes she made? How much would he be punished by those around him because of what she had done?

**:::::**

Her lips pressed together in a thin line as she fought to keep them from trembling. She spoke softly as she asked him again if it was what he truly wanted and nodded silently when he told her it was. Stepping away from the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, Eileen took her son's hand and disapparated. Seconds later they were standing inside their house on Spinner's End. She nodded when he told her that he was going to get ready for bed and fell heavily into the chair behind her when he moved to the stairs. He had understood that staying in the inn would have cost them money and it was money they couldn't spend, so he had asked to return home instead.

He was five years old, her mind raged. His world should be filled with the joys and whimsical fantasies of childhood, not the worry of whether he would have enough money for school. Covering her face with her hands as she fought against the tears gathered in her eyes, she did what she could to keep from crying. Just when she had begun to have hope it had been taken away, and it felt even worse knowing it had been done by her father. Standing from the chair, Eileen made her way up the stairs to tuck her son into bed and found him to be already sleeping. Beyond anything, she hoped that his dreams brought him the comfort that the waking world could not.

Returning downstairs, she stepped into the parlor and closed the door before moving to the bookshelf. Raising her palms to the middle shelf and speaking the enchantment she had placed on it long ago, she watched as the books rippled and disappeared. Tucked between the panels of wood and hung by a piece of rough twine was a small velvet bag. Removing it from the bent nail it hung on, she opened the pouch to reveal the gold coins she had stashed away inside. It wasn't much, barely enough to buy her son the quill, ink, and robes he would need for school, but she would have to make do. She had kept this money close as an emergency fund in case she needed to take Severus and run from Tobias.

She returned the pouch to the hook and put the enchantments back in place to hide it away. Once Tobias had begun the abuse, it had always been her plan to leave him. She had charmed a small bag to hold the clothes they would need as well as a few books and things for them to make a new life in Hogsmeade or Godric's Hollow. It was the day that she had been prepared to run that her mother had shown up on her doorstep. Her mother had explained to her then that she couldn't leave or run away, she couldn't use her magic on Tobias either. She had chosen to live with a muggle, chosen to take her own path instead of going along with the arrangements that had been made between her father and Sirius Black II.

She hadn't known Regulus Black, certainly not well enough to marry herself to him and whether it had been expected of her or not, she refused to have her marriage arranged. She had wanted love, true love, and for her foolishness she had been given pain and despair instead. The very idea of being married to him had been abhorrent to her and not because of who the man was or because he was from the Black family. Rather, it was the fact that he was twenty-three years older than she was and the thought of marrying someone old enough to be her father had been frightening.

She had found out shortly after marrying Tobias that Regulus had died, but no one had been able to tell her why or how. Somehow she had found that she was the one blamed for the man's death and later, by extension, so was her son. She looked around at the books that were tucked on the shelves. They were the proof that she was a witch despite living in muggle surroundings. She was strong enough that she didn't need her wand most of the time in order to cast spells or charms, but still she used the enchanted wooden tool, clinging to it as she did to the memory of happier times.

"He wasn't even born!" she raged quietly as the tears she had been fighting all day finally fell from her eyes. "You died in nineteen-fifty-two; Severus was born in nineteen-sixty! It wasn't his fault, but your family still puts the blame on him! Are they teaching this generation to hate him?" she asked of no one. "Will Hogwarts even be a safe place for my son?"

There was no wind, no movement of the books or anything else in the room, but she watched as a roll of parchment flew off a shelf to land at her feet. Bending down to pick it up, she unrolled the aged paper and felt her heart break at the handwritten words that were nearly cuneiform in their structure. The letter wasn't signed, but she knew it would never need to be. She had read these words so many times and it seemed that they always came back to her in a time of great pain or heartache.

_Eileen,_

_I know that I am much older than you and I'm sure that it unsettles you. My parents have been trying to marry me off for years, but I – like you – have wanted to wait for love. If you do choose to marry me, I promise that I will take care of you. You will want for nothing and you will always be well cared for, regardless of whether we find love with each other or not. I could make you happy._

She rolled the parchment, hiding away the words and cried as she took the invisible charm off of the trunk that sat in the corner. Opening the old trunk and throwing the letter inside, she shut the lid and buckled the straps tightly. If she had chosen to marry him she would never have known the pain or betrayal of abuse. Looking up as she sniffled and wiped away her tears, she knew the other side of that coin as well. If she had chosen to marry Regulus, she would never have given birth to Severus. His pregnancy may not have been her choosing, but she wouldn't give up her son for the world.

Sitting down on the trunk, she closed her eyes and dropped her face into her hands. She was tired, so very tired and all she wished for was a little bit of sleep. Standing up slowly, she turned and hid the trunk away behind concealment charms once more before leaving the room. Moving toward the stairs and ascending them quietly, she stepped into the room she shared with Tobias and was glad he was gone. She didn't bother changing into her night clothes as she slipped off her shoes and lay down on the bed. All she wanted was one decent night's sleep and as her eyes fell closed, she wished fervently that her son would know a better life than she had.


	3. Chapter 3

When Darkness Falls

Book 1: The Story of Severus Snape

Chapter 3

She had been confused by her daughter's request, never having known her youngest to want to go anywhere without her sister, but she hadn't refused. Stepping out of the car and smiling as she helped her daughter out of the back seat, she gathered a trolley from the covered stall next to them. Asking Lily if she wanted to ride in the basket, she smiled and held the girl's hand as they walked from the parking lot into the store. There had been something in her daughter's voice when she had made the request, a kind of knowledge that seemed beyond her years, and she hadn't been able to refuse her. Looking down when her daughter tugged on her sleeve, she met her gaze before the girl turned and pointed toward the section marking bedroom and home decorations.

"What are you looking for, Lily?" Rose Evans asked as Lily wrapped her hand around one of the spokes of the trolley's frame.

"There are things I wish to gather for someone who needs them," she said softly, her words cryptic and voice almost dreamy. "Mum, he doesn't have anyone and I want to make sure he knows that he has someone."

"Tell me about him while we gather what you need," Rose said as she walked down the aisles with her daughter.

Lily was quiet at first, her fine sunset red brows pulled together in thought as she reached up for the thick white top sheet wrapped in plastic. Her mother plucked it from the shelf, her eyes moving over the description of the cloth before she put it back and selected the one on the shelf above it. It was a few pounds more in cost, but as she looked down at her daughter, she could see the need for something nicer in her eyes. She listened as her daughter began to speak, a frown marring her brow as the girl spoke of the loneliness and abandonment the boy was feeling.

She asked Lily if she had ever met him and felt both confusion and worry when her daughter said no. It wasn't uncommon for children to have imaginary friends, especially not at her age, but generally the person or creature a child created fulfilled something that they needed. She couldn't imagine her daughter needing an imagined friend to project such dark emotions onto. The way Lily was describing this boy was enough to make her cry and she didn't understand how her daughter could have imagined someone in so much pain.

"What else do we need for your friend?" Rose asked as they moved down the aisle. "We have a flat sheet, a pillow, what else do think would be nice?"

"Something to keep him warm, but Mum…" Lily paused as they came to the section holding comforters and thick blankets. "I want to give him the quilt from my bed."

"Are you sure?" Rose asked, holding onto the trolley as she knelt down to meet her daughter's gaze. "Your grandmother stitched that for you. You've never been without it."

"I'm sure. He needs it more than I do," she said, her eyes holding a depth of emotion Rose had never seen in her before.

"Then you'll need a new blanket," Rose said softly and tucked her daughter's hair behind her ears. "Is there a color you like?"

"The black one, with the blue underneath," Lily smiled as she reached for the overstuffed comforter. "Thank you, Mum."

"You're welcome, Lily." She smiled as she put the comforter into the trolley and moved out of the aisle. "What about snacks? Those Fox's biscuits, Hob Nobs, and McVities you like would last a while. Maybe a few juice packs?"

Lily looked up at her mother with tears shining in her eyes. She could have easily denied her, could have turned her away, but instead she was helping her. Her mother was helping her gather things that she hadn't thought about so that she could give the boy from the tree something better. Her eyes widened with delight as they passed by the toys and asked if she could pick two items, smiling happily when Rose nodded. Moving to the stuffed animals, Lily picked out a large caramel-brown bear and a beautiful unicorn. She held the stuffies close to her chest and hugged them tight before handing them over to her mother.

"Where are we taking all these things once we have them gathered?" Rose asked and saw Lily bite her lip.

"The tree, the one up the hill behind out house," she answered and saw the thoughtful look on her mother's face.

"The hollow one?" Rose asked with a smile. "The same one I taught you to read in?"

"Yes," Lily answered shyly and saw her mother's smile widen.

"Would you like to know a secret about that tree?" Rose asked as she led her daughter through the store and toward the grocery section. Smiling when Lily nodded, Rose took her hand. "When I was pregnant with you, your sister had a terrible habit of never leaving me alone. Your father promised me two hours a day in which he would look after your sister and I could do anything I wanted. I used to take my copy of Sherlock Holmes and sit inside that tree to read. No matter if your sister got loose from your father or not, she'd never come near that tree. Sometimes, I'd read aloud to you."

"Truly?" Lily asked and Rose laughed softly.

"Truly," she said with humor. "In the later months, I'd fall asleep inside that tree. I nearly gave birth to in you there!" she laughed at the memory. "I don't know how I made it out of there and back home before you made your way into the world."

"But I was born in hospital, I saw the bracelet you kept in my baby book," Lily said with a confused frown as she reached for a package of shortbread McVities.

Rose laughed and took the biscuits from her daughter. "No, actually you weren't. That bracelet came after you were born. Two days after when I took you in for a check-up. My water broke when I was tucked away inside that tree and the waddle home brought you into the world faster than we expected. You were born at home." She paused for a moment and pulled down three packages of apple juice boxes from the shelf next to her. "I used to read to you in that tree when you were an infant."

"Why did you stop?" Lily asked curiously and frowned at her mother's blush.

"I found a spider. I've never been overly found of them. You are being careful there, yes?"

"I'm always careful, Mum," Lily answered. "I'm glad he can share our tree."

"Me too," Rose smiled and tapped her daughter's nose. "Me too."

**:::::**

He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, the room around him dark. He missed the peace and quiet. For three days, three very nice and far too short days, it had been just him and his mother. For the two days following their return from Diagon Alley she had taught him all she could about focusing his mind and seeing through the different concealment charms she used. He was certain that she had never thought of the fact that doing so would allow him to see through her glamours as well. It was true that his mother had a pale angular face, some would even call it sallow, but she had always looked pretty to him. When he had looked at her while focusing his mind to see through the charms in the kitchen, he had seen through her glamour as well. It wasn't as easy to see through the glamour, to see what lay hidden beneath the magic.

The bruises and swelling had been there, at first looking to him to be nothing more than a trick of the light, but when he had turned his head to the side, he had seen her injuries clearly. He had wanted to say something to her then, to beg her to run away or hide the house from his father, anything that would keep them safe. He hadn't said anything though, both reluctant and afraid to ruin the delicate happiness they had. His father had returned on the fourth day, the company's demand that he stay in the city one more night putting him in a foul mood. With his father's return had come the loss of the peace he and his mother had found.

They were fighting again. Severus sighed as he sat up in his bed. He and his mother had spent three peaceful days alone without his father, but now that the man was back their house had become a war zone again. Everything was tense, every movement he made thought out carefully with the intent of avoiding his father's ire. It didn't help that the man was constantly drunk. There was no alcohol in the house, there hadn't been for a few months, but each day that the man came home from work he was too drunk to walk down the hallway without running into the walls every few feet. They didn't have enough money to buy groceries most days, but his father had enough to get drunk every night.

Shaking his head and beating his fist against the flat pillow that had long since lost any of its comforting softness, Severus stood from his bed. He made his way silently to the closet and dressed quickly. The pants were too long, the shirt almost too small and the shoes on his feet were the same brand and color but one was larger than the other. His mother had been forced to make do with second hand shops and charity boxes from community centers and churches. He hated it and he knew she did too, but there wasn't anything else they could do.

"To me," he said softly, forcefully and watched as the leather bound book flew off the shelf and into his hand.

He knew his mother believed that she had hidden this book from him, but it was because of her careful instruction that he had been able to find it. Severus frowned as he turned his attention down to the thick book in his hands, the cover and bindings speaking to its age. She had cautioned him against the Dark Arts, but it had been that one line he would never forget that drew him to seek it out. The introduction had been a light in the dark, promising him that the Dark Arts would teach him how to protect himself from his enemies. If this book meant that he could learn how to protect his mother, how to protect himself than he didn't care how dark the magic inside was.

Moving toward the window, he looked between the book and the filthy damp alley below wondering how he could climb down and carry the book with him. He couldn't stand the thought of dropping it out of the window, but he knew that he could climb down with only one hand. He jumped, nearly dropping the book when it flew open on its own, the pages turning quickly until they stopped almost halfway through. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the book and studied the instructions carefully. He didn't have a wand, but the spell gave him the direction of how to use it without a wand. Staring at the book as he kept his gaze steady, he felt his scalp tingle and pressure building as his he focused his mind and magic.

He wanted to cheer when the book lifted out of his hands and held steady in the air, levitating on its own. Stepping toward the window and pushed the neglected wood and glass up inside its frame. Putting his hand on the brick sill outside, he felt almost faint as he spelled the stairs from the wall while holding the book level in the air simultaneously. It took him a greater amount of concentration to climb down from the window, more so than he had ever used before, and he gave a heavy sigh of relief when his feet touched the damp concrete of the alley below. Taking the book into his arms as he released his magic, he moved away from the house and made his way through the back alleys.

He couldn't stand to hear their fighting and it was too much for him to take now that he knew why his mother had never stood up to the man. Magic was so powerful, it could do anything, but it couldn't save either of them from his father. How was that fair at all? It didn't take him long to reach the end of the street, the heavy mist that wasn't quite rain dampening his clothing. He felt somehow free when he came to the park, the grass under his shoes slippery. Moving through the grasses, he passed by a picnic table and swing set before coming to the clearing that would lead him to his tree. His brow furrowed as he wondered if the person who had left their handprint for him, had found the one he left in return.

His steps slowed as he came closer to the hollowed tree, his eye studying it in the dark cover of the night. The trunk was huge, but he already knew that and he felt foolish to be staring at it as though he'd never seen it before. Shaking his head and narrowing his eyes when his damp hair stuck to his face, he pushed the locks back with one hand and stepped forward. It felt different and he knew he wasn't imagining things. Even before he stepped inside it, the tree felt different. He was cautious as he moved forward, uncertain what to expect and frowned as he stepped into the hollow opening.

"_Illuminare_," Severus spoke as he held up his left hand, his palm turned up.

The ball of light shimmered in the darkness lighting the inside of the tree and he blinked quickly as his eyes adjusted to the light. Staring into the conjured light, he focused on it and closed his eyes before lifting his hand up slightly as though he was gently tossing the ball. His eyes opened when he felt the warmth of the light leave his hand and he looked up to watch it float to the top of the tree and settle. Turning his head back down, he felt his eyes widen at the sight of a bundle in the corner and frowned at the envelope resting on top.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out for the envelope even as he felt somehow afraid of it. His fingers had yet to touch the thick white paper before it lifted into the air and came to him and he knew it was his magic that was making it move. It wasn't sealed, the flap simply folded inside and he tugged it gently, slowly, until it opened. His brows furrowed as he looked at the edge of the paper tucked inside and he waited only a moment before pulling out the folded white sheet with blue lines traversing it. He didn't know why he suddenly felt the need to sit, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to open this folded note and remain standing. There was something about it, something so powerful that he found himself holding his breath as sat on the ground and crossed his legs.

Grasping the edges of the folded paper, he began to pull it apart slowly, opening it until the page revealed the words written upon it. He didn't read it at first, the handwriting capturing his attention and he studied the half-formed curves and slightly lopsided edges. His mother had taught him to write two years ago and read before that. He knew that he was intellectually far above most other children his age, but whoever wrote him this letter was, too. His eyes fell closed in a slow blink and breathed in sharply before closing them again and holding the page in his hands. It felt the same as the handprint on the wall. The paper in his hand held the same energy, the same caring and kindness and love that the handprint had and he knew that they were made by the same person. Opening his eyes, he returned his attention to the words on the page and stilled as he read them.

_I touched it, the handprint you left behind. You're not any older than I am, but I thought you were from the feel of this tree before. You feel so alone. No one should ever be alone, certainly not in the way you are. I've brought these things here for you. I thought they might make it a little better for you. Mother calls you my imaginary friend, but she doesn't see what I see. I don't have long. Mum's waiting for me, but I hope these things help. _

There was a letter at the bottom of the note and if he squinted his eyes and turned the paper slightly to the left, it looked like an L. Folding the note and tucking it into his pocket, he kept tight hold of it when he felt his hand pass through the seam. Severus gave a heavy sigh as he pulled his hand back out from his pocket, the note clutched in his fingers. He didn't want to lose this note, but he couldn't carry it with him either. Turning to the book he'd brought with him, he opened the back of it, meaning to tuck the note in between the pages and was pleased to find a pocket instead. Tucking the page inside and closing the book, he set it aside and turned to the bundle.

He studied the knot in the cloth tie, frowning as he thought it looked familiar. He wondered if it had one time served as this person's bathrobe tie. He was hesitant as he lifted his hands to the folds in the knot and began to undo the tie. Each tug was careful as he tested to make sure he was pulling at the right parts and a moment later the cloth belt lay discarded at his feet. He wondered if her mother had carried the bundle for her, believing without question that the stranger was female, and opened the sheet wrappings.

The first thing he noticed were the biscuits. He reached for them immediately, opening the package in such a haste that the sweet food spilled around him. He was so hungry and ate four of them before slowing down enough to brush the dust and dirt they'd gathered from where they'd fallen. In the time since his father had returned, they had run so low on food that neither he nor his mother had eaten in three days. He glanced back at the open bundle and found several more packages of treats left for him. There were ginger, chocolate, and vanilla flavored biscuits, sea salt crisps, and even a few oranges and apples left for him to eat. Tipping his head in confusion, he picked up an item he'd never seen before and opened the package it was in to take one out.

"Juice?" Severus whispered as he looked at the box and carefully removed the covered straw from the back.

It took him only a moment to figure out what he needed to do and he tugged the straw out of its plastic wrappings before stabbing it into the silver covered hole on top of the box. Droplets of the amber colored liquid began pouring out of the straw almost immediately and he wrapped his lips around the tiny plastic tube only to groan at the welcomed flavor. He'd not had apple juice before. He hadn't had juice of any kind before aside from the pumpkin juice he'd had in Diagon Alley, but this tasted amazing. The box was empty before he realized and he reached for another only to still when he saw the odd shape hidden under the fold of the sheet.

Reaching out, he lifted up the sheet and blinked in surprise. This was what had made the bundle seem so large. There was a quilt, a pillow, and a teddy bear tucked on the bottom and he realized that then that the items were what had caused the snacks to come spilling out as soon as he had opened the bundle. Severus didn't' know he was crying until his tears fell onto his hand and sniffled quickly before scrubbing his hands over his face. She didn't know him. Whoever this girl was that had left the handprint behind and left him this bundle, she had no idea who he was, but still she had left him these things.

"I think I'll stay here tonight," he said to no one and pulled the pillow and quilt out from where they rested.

The pillow was new or at least it felt new. It wasn't flat or hard, but soft and fluffy instead. The quilt was hand stitched and smooth, the fabrics soft, and heavy, and warm. He moved slowly, setting the pillow away from him and laid down on his side, dragging the quilt up over him as he settled down to sleep. This was the only place that was safe anymore, the only place that actually felt like a home. Reaching out his hand, he stared at the stuffed bear and watched it move toward his hand. Grasping the bear's arm and feeling even more broken by the delicate softness of the fur, he tucked the stuffed animal into his arms before looking up at the conjured ball of light.

"_Tenebris_," he spoke softly and the light disappeared to leave him in darkness.

**:::::**

She stood in the open doorway, a gentle affectionate smile twisting her lips up to the side as she watched her daughter brush her teeth. Amused at the bubbling toothpaste coming from her mouth, Rose laughed and stepped in once Lily had spit into the sink. Wiping her daughter's face with a damp cloth, she nodded to the small paper cup and told her to rinse before leaving the room. She laughed when Lily stepped down from the thick wooden two-stair block and made her way back to her bedroom. She was absolutely neat in everything else, but when she brushed her teeth, Lily often looked as though she were foaming at the mouth.

Following her daughter back into her bedroom, Rose watched as she climbed beneath the thick blankets on her bed, her hands smoothing proudly over the new comforter. Even if this boy her daughter talked about was only imaginary, Rose felt proud of her for what she had done today. Her precious young daughter had thought of someone else in such a complete and mature way that her eldest daughter, Petunia, never had.

She shook her head, an amused smile twisting her lips as she lifted the hardbound book from the white shelf and moved to the cream railed daybed. Sitting down on the side of the thick mattress, she set the thin book in her lap and lifted the soft overstuffed comforter up around her daughter's shoulders. Reaching her hand out, she ran her fingers through her daughter's sunrise colored hair and brushed the thick locks back against the pillow. She smiled when the girl giggled and tipped her head as her daughter pulled the stuffed white unicorn into her arms, the horn colored in spirals of silver, gold, and ruby.

"You're certain there's someone there, Sweetheart?" she asked her daughter and watched her green eyes widen as she smiled.

"I know there is, Mum," she answered and looked down at the unicorn. "I can't tell you how, but I know he's there."

"I'm proud of you, Lily," Rose said as she leaned down over her daughter and kissed her brow. "I'm truly very proud of you."

Lily smiled but didn't speak, her eyes showing how much her mother's words meant to her. Tapping the book in her mother's hands, she asked her to read the story and giggled when her mother shook her head with false exasperation. Opening the book and turning to the first page, she watched as her mother opened her mouth and frowned as she spoke words that she knew weren't written on the page. Giving a soft harrumph and crossing her arms with the stuffed unicorn still tucked against her chest, Lily corrected her and recited the words she knew were there.

"You have this book memorized, Lily," Rose laughed. "Do I even need to hold the book anymore?" she teased.

"I fancy the pictures," she said and smiled at her mother's laughter.

"Alright then," she said amused and turned her eyes back to the book. "_Katie Country Mouse and Her Friends,_" Rose read from the title page and turned to the first page of the story.

It didn't take long for Lily to fall asleep and Rose smiled as she turned to the last page of the book and found her daughter to be happily dreaming. Leaning down to kiss her forehead, she closed the book and stood from the bed. Turning off the light as she carried the book with her, she stepped to her eldest daughter's room and smiled at the way the girl was laying sprawled across her bed with one leg hanging down to the floor. Amused at how Petunia slept, she pulled the door almost closed and moved through the house.

"Christopher, I'm going to go for a walk," she said as she passed behind her husband as he sat reading the evening news.

"This late, Rose?" the man asked as he looked up from his paper. "It's already dark outside."

"I'll be safe and I won't go far," she told him with a smile and bent down to kiss his hair.

"Enjoy yourself, my dear," he said as he returned his attention to the article he'd been reading.

"I will." She smiled as she moved toward the door leading to the backyard. "Listen for the girls?"

"Always do," he assured her without looking up from the newsprint.

Her lips were bent up in an amused bow, her husband's predictability always a source of amusement to her. Stepping outside and closing the door behind her, she looked up at the clear sky, the stars lighting her way in the moonless night. She could see the branches of the old tree in the distance, her curiosity getting the better of her as she walked through the wildflower-speckled grasses. The dew dampened her shoes and the tops of her feet as she walked across the yard and made her way between the wild ankle high grasses between her yard and the edge of the park.

The hill was tricky to maneuver at first, the flat of her shoes slipping in the slick dew-covered grasses and she came close to losing her balance more than once. Making it up the hill and stopping outside the hollow tree, she could almost make out the mess inside the tree and the huddled figure lying beneath her daughter's gifted quilt. Her lips parted, her hand lifting to cover her mouth as she sat down slowly on an upraised root. She could feel her heart constrict with worry she felt for the child tucked inside. She was certain that he had been an imaginary friend made up by her daughter until that moment.

"How can she know you're here if she's never met you?" Rose asked softly.

She didn't understand why she couldn't go into the tree, why she didn't seem able to. It was as though something was keeping from wanting to go in, every time she got close to the entrance she would turn away from it. She found that she couldn't even put her hand inside, but for some reason that was alright. She remained sitting where she was on the exposed root and opened the book that she still carried with her. She looked back into the dark opening of the tree before she began to read and looked back again at each turn of the page.

The small form never moved, the soft sighs telling her that the child was still sleeping and as she came to the last page of the story, she looked back at him with a mother's worry. She didn't understand how a child could be out this late or why he would be sleeping tucked away in the old tree instead of in his home, but she felt ever more proud of Lily for the gifts they had left behind for him. Knowing that she needed to return home, she stood from her seat and touched the outside of the tree before she left. The idea of leaving the child alone was unbearable, but for the moment he was safe inside the tree and that was the important part.

She couldn't get close enough to see his face or know who he was; understanding in a way that only a mother could that she would have to trust her daughter to take care of him. It was some kind of universal law, she theorized as she made the slow walk back to her house. There was some kind of cosmic rule where a lost child would only truly listen and respond to another child as though children spoke some kind of language that was unique to their age. She looked back at the tree as she came to a stop at the bottom of the hill and prayed silently that he would find a way to have a better life than what it seemed he had now.

"Goodnight, little lost boy," Rose whispered before turning and making her way home.

**:::::**

Severus woke slowly, one fisted hand rubbing against his tired eyes as he sat up. The heavy quilt fell to his lap and he blinked down at it in wonder as his fingers traced over the stitching. This blanket was far nicer than anything he'd ever had at home and he hadn't felt cold once throughout the night. The pillow was nice as well, thick and soft as a cloud. He couldn't remember having slept better before and lifted the teddy bear into his arms, hugging it close as he looked around the hollow tree he'd made himself a home in. There were still cookies in the package lying open on the floor and he reached for a few of them. It wasn't much of a breakfast, but it was more than he'd had for longer than he cared to remember.

He stood slowly, stretching and yawning as he woke fully. He was careful with the quilt, handling it as though it were made of glass as he folded it neatly. He set the heavy blanket back on the crisp white sheet, placing the pillow on top. He had more time now to examine all that had been left for him and saw that what he had believed to be only a few packages the night before was only a smattering of what was truly there. He sat down on the unwrapped sheet and pulled all of the packets of biscuits and snack food toward him.

He separated the sweet chocolate, ginger, and vanilla Fox's biscuits from the Cheddar, chocolate and shortbread McVities. He stared in wonder as more packages seemed to pop up and wondered how many there were as a few round packages of HobNobs came rolling toward him. He began tapping the packages as he counted them, reminding himself of the ones he'd already counted and setting them aside before moving on. Thirty packages of biscuits and snacks had been left for him and he felt lost in his confusion and the growing storm emotions that he didn't understand. The juice packs were next and he closed his eyes against the burning sting of tears as he pulled another apple juice boxes from the thin plastic wrapping.

He knew that as long as he had gone without eating, his mother had gone longer and he selected one of the small packages of HobNobs to take home with him. He could have simply taken all of the packages home with him, but something told him not to. There was a feeling in the back of his mind, a warning that he didn't like the feel of, that told him he had to leave as much there in the tree as he could. It wouldn't be safe anywhere else. Selecting one of the black currant juice boxes, he tucked it, along with the single pack of chocolate biscuits, into his long sleeve and moved to gather the thick leather bound book from the other side of the tree.

Severus was careful to tuck the book of Dark Arts between the quit and the sheet beneath it, whispering the words he had heard his mother use. He watched the book disappear from sight, the edges of it like a shadow if he concentrated hard enough. He would be the only one to know where it was and it would be safe here. It had to be safe in this place. Standing and moving to step away from the neatly placed bundle, he turned and caught the color of muted yellow from the corner of his eye. Frowning as he stepped closer, he looked into the corner between the bundle and the wall of the hollowed tree before backing away quickly. There were three packs of Jacob's cream crackers and three more packs of the juice boxes.

"Why do you care?" Severus whispered in stunned disbelief as he clutched the cuff of his sleeve tightly to hold the hidden objects inside. "No one else cares. You don't even know me. Why do you care?"

He didn't move any closer to the items, didn't reach out to make certain they were real, instead he turned and ran from the tree as fast as his legs could carry him. As if the quilt and pillow hadn't been enough, he had been left a bear and food and drink. It was too much. It was all just too much. No one in his life – not his mother and most certainly not his father – had ever told him that he was worth much of anything. His mother's parents wanted nothing to do with her and saw him as little more than a stain needing to be blotted out. His father's parents…the one and only time he had met them had been when he was three and he still recalled every second of their harsh words and scathing ridicules. But this person, this person didn't know him. She had never met him, never seen him, yet she thought he was worth all of that.

He didn't stop running. Even when his heart was pounding hard enough that he thought it might explode from his chest, he kept running. He didn't understand any of this. Why would someone who'd never met him give him everything that she had? And why…he shook his head as he ran, why did it hurt so very much? He felt as though he were breaking apart, being torn open and left bleeding for all the world to see. He didn't like this feeling of uncertainty. He didn't like not knowing what to do or how to respond.

Looking up as he came to the edge of the park that met the dingy concrete of the sidewalk, Severus stopped and looked down. He was still standing on the grass, waiting to step onto the sidewalk, but he couldn't make himself move. It felt to be some kind of boundary line as though the grass was safe, but the concrete wasn't. Lifting his arm as the juice box and Hob Nobs packages made themselves known to him once more, he closed his eyes and swallowed his fear. He couldn't let these emotions get in the way of what he knew he had to do. His mother needed to eat and he had to bring the food to her so that she could.

"You're not a weakling," Severus whispered to himself as he bit back his emotions and stood tall. "I'm not some simpering muggle; I'm a wizard – a Prince."

He lifted his foot, stepping onto the concrete sidewalk and felt instantly cold, as though all the hope he had felt was gone. There was nothing left inside him here, save for the responsibility he felt to his mother. In the park – in his hollowed tree – he was safe and for awhile he could forget who he was and what he had come from. But here, inside the city and away from the one place that meant safety, here he was nothing more than his mother's son trying as hard as he could to do right by her. His surname was Snape and he would always be Severus Snape, but in his thoughts he would be his mother's son – he would be a Prince, even if he were only half a wizard.

It didn't take him long to reach his house, the muted grey skies that threatened rain preventing him from truly being able to tell the time of day. He moved around to the alley behind the row house and looked up at the brick wall. He could always go to the back door that led into the kitchen or around to the front door, but he had no wish to encounter his father if the man was still home. Reaching out his right hand, his left still clutching the cuff of his sleeve, he stared at the wall until the bricks began to move. It was easier to form the stairs now, the simple magic not feeling to take much out of him anymore.

He climbed his way up the wall carefully, his left hand still clutching the cuff of his sleeve tightly and held at a slight downward angle. It was an awkward and slow process, but Severus was proud that he made it back inside his room without losing the items he had hidden away for his mother. Taking the packages from his sleeve, he set them on his bed, using the threadbare sheet to hide them before stepping toward the door. It was silent in the house, eerily so and he wasn't certain what to think of it as he opened the door and stepped into the hall.

There were no lights on, though it wasn't unusual and he knew that more than once they had been forced to go without the simple pleasure of electricity. He moved down the hall toward his parents' bedroom, the door standing ajar and placed his hand on the cold wood. There was no answer when he called out softly and he pushed the door open to look inside. He frowned at the sight of his mother sitting by the window, her expression one he'd never seen before. Calling out to her as he stepped into the room, he waited for her to respond and grew concerned when she remained silent.

"Mother?" Severus moved closer. "Mother, is father gone?"

"Yes," she answered stiffly and Severus' frown deepened.

"Mother, what's wrong?" he asked as he remained halfway between her and the open door.

"Where shall I begin?" she asked as she stood from the chair and Severus took a step back.

"At the start?" he offered the suggestion.

"The start?" Eileen repeated, her nostrils flaring with angry breaths. "The start, Severus, would be me betraying my family to marry beneath my station. To marry a muggle," she snapped and his eyes widened at her tone. "Worse yet…" She paused, her balance faltering slightly and it was then he saw the empty bottle on the window sill. "…would be me revealing what I am to that git," she snarled the word and moved toward the bed, falling to sit upon its edge. "I could still have gotten out of it you know," she told him, her tone almost kind. "I could have used a memory charm and made him forget, but then…Then, my dear sweet boy," she sneered the words. "You came along. I didn't have a choice in that. No, you sealed my fate."

"Mother?" Severus stared at her, feeling as though he'd been punched in the stomach by her words. "Mother, have you been drinking?" he asked her warily, half-staring at the bottle.

"It works so well for your father, I thought I might try it," she laughed. "Especially after he told me that he's come under inquiry at work. Apparently, everyone but I knew that he was sleeping with his boss' secretary. How he managed that, I'll never know," she growled. "Charming, she said," Eileen sneered. "He's only charming until he gets what he wants."

"Mother." Severus summoned the bottle toward him, cringing at the feel of the glass. "Please, no more of this," he begged her as he backed away toward the door. "I brought you food."

"Food?" Eileen stood from the bed and walked toward her son on unsteady feet. "Where did you get it?" she asked, her eyes flaring wide and cheeks flushing in anger when he remained silent.

Severus cried out when she moved, her hand lashing out and slapping him across the face. He fell to the floor with the force of it and stared up at her with frightened eyes. He didn't know this woman. This angry, bitter woman standing in his mother's form – he had never once seen her like this and didn't recognize her. She was furious as she moved closer to him on unsteady feet and he scrambled for the door. His father had struck him a few times, but not her – never her…until now. He ran for his room as she called out to him, screaming to him that their name carried enough shame already and she wouldn't be adding 'thief' to the mix.

He tried to close his door, tried to hide away from her, but she was faster than he was and the thin wood swung open, bouncing off the wall from the force of it. She stumbled forward, tripping over her own feet before landing across his bed. He waited with his back pressed against the wall as he watched her, but she didn't move or make a sound. His eyes narrowed as he stepped forward and moved closer to her, the woman still unmoving after several long moments. Closing his eyes when he found her to have passed out, Severus reached for the juice box and package of biscuits. Drunk or not, her reaction was enough that he wasn't willing to chance what would happen if he tried to give the items to her again while she was sober.

His chin trembled as he moved to the window, pressing his hand against the bricks to enchant them into handholds. He climbed back down to the ground, uncaring of the rain that soaked through his clothes as he ran through the alleys and back to the park. His mother was supposed to be the safe one, she was meant to be the one to care for him as she always had before. He looked down as he reached the line or concrete and grass that separated the park from the city. Looking back over his shoulder, he felt tears sting his eyes as her words played through his head. She could have left his father, she could have been safe and made him forget and be free…if only he hadn't been born.

His steps were slow as he traveled across the grass, his eyes cast down to the ground as tears slipped from his eyes only to be lost in the raindrops falling on his face. Severus wondered if his mother had always hated him or if the alcohol was simply a drink that possessed a person like the demons he'd read about. Looking up at the sound of voices in the distance, he frowned to see a couple walking past his tree. The man and woman looked young, their features kind and pretty, but he didn't know who they were. He moved quickly, hiding himself behind another tree and watching as they passed him by.

He tipped his head when he heard the woman laugh, the sound free and musical. The man laughed a moment later, hugging the woman with dark blonde hair to him before watching as she ran away from him happily. She twirled in the rain, her face lifted up for the water to fall on and Severus felt his breath catch in his throat when she stopped and turned to look at him. She stepped toward the tree he was hiding against, waving back at the man behind her when he spoke and telling him to wait for her. The closer she moved the harder Severus pressed against the tree and tried to hide, but she found him still.

"Someday it won't seem so bad," she told him, her voice a low soothing alto that held a dreamy quality to it.

"Who are you?" Severus asked her as he pressed closer to the tree.

"Someday you'll know." She smiled kindly as she turned to step away. "One day you'll find her and she will make everything bad seem worth it."

"Do you always talk in riddles?" he snapped, the day having been too much for him already.

"It is my curse," she said with a wink and skipped away from him as she made her way back to the man waiting for her.

He watched her move away, her words echoing through his mind though he never found out who she was. He waited until the couple moved out of sight before darting for the cover and safety of his hollowed tree. The bundle was still there, the quilt and fluffy pillow sitting neatly in the corner with the food and drink boxes stacked next to it by the wall. He blinked slowly as he looked around the hollow tree, feeling more tired and cold by the moment. He didn't have any clothes here, nothing to change into or a way to dry his clothes. Looking at the quilt as he sat down on the packed dirt floor, Severus wrapped his arms tightly around himself and leaned against the wall.

He couldn't stand the thought of ruining the gifts by getting them wet. Sliding down the wall until he was curled up on his side, he closed his eyes and hugged his bent knees to his chest. Sighing as he took in a series of deep breaths, swiping one hand across his face to dry his still falling tears. His mother wouldn't hit him; he knew that because she'd never done so before. Keeping his eyes closed as he willed himself back to sleep, Severus hoped beyond everything that when he woke what had happened would be nothing more than a nightmare.


	4. Chapter 4

When Darkness Falls

Book 1: The Story of Severus Snape

Chapter Four

It was hard for him to wake, his eyes opening before his brain connected to them enough to tell him what he was seeing. A fog clouded his mind, a heaviness settling into every muscle and bone that made it feel impossible to move and difficult to think. He couldn't remember where he was, his clothes stiff and scratchy against his skin that was far too sensitive. It hurt to move, his muscles protesting every action he took. Breathing in caused fire to burn through his lungs and he coughed as his body rejected the air even as it demanded more. Blinking against the darkness surrounding him, he groaned with the effort it took just to push up from the ground, his hands braced against the packed earth floor.

Thinking was harder to do than moving and he sat staring at the dirt floors and large rounded room for long moments before realizing he was still in his hollowed tree. He couldn't tell if it was truly dark outside or if he was simply having trouble seeing, but as near as he could tell it was a dreary grey world beyond the walls of his tree. He moved slowly, his hand rubbing against his brow in the hopes of making the pounding headache go away. He was burning hot and achingly cold at the same time, his muscles quivering beneath his skin in shocks and tremors.

He breathed in, the air catching against the back of his throat and choking him as he coughed and gasped for air. He knew he wouldn't be awake much longer, it was already a fight to keep his eyes open, but he needed to get home. He didn't think he could stay here in this tree, not with as sick as he knew he was. Severus turned his attention back toward the ground, moving with great effort as he pushed up to stand on unsteady feet. His legs shook beneath him, spots dancing before his eyes as the world turned dark. He stood waiting for his eyes to adjust, for the vertigo to leave him, but it remained and grew stronger with each second that passed.

Falling to his knees when it became too much to stand, Severus reached out for the pillow and the quilt behind him. He didn't want to ruin these fine gifts with his sweat or his sick, but his need of them was greater than his desire to protect them. It felt to him that an hour had passed between him falling to the ground and the moment he reached for the blanket, his movements exhaustingly slow and clumsy. He didn't remember moving the pillow, but it was suddenly underneath his head and the bear was tucked in his arms. Blinking slowly as he tugged the heavy quilt up to his shoulders, his eyes closed one last time as the waking world disappeared in a fevered instant.

It felt to him that only seconds had passed between him falling asleep and the racking coughs that woke him. Each cough was a burning knife stabbing deep into his chest; robbing him of air to breathe and making his lungs burn as they demanded oxygen. He blinked quickly, squeezing his eyes shut against light that blinded him and curled deeper beneath the blankets as he shivered from a chill that only he could feel. Half his body felt burning hot while the rest felt as though he'd been covered in ice, but no matter the battling of temperature, he wouldn't relinquish the heavy quilt that shrouded him. His head ached enough that it felt swollen to double its size, his parched lips parted as he breathed in through his mouth, his nose no longer a passageway for air.

Turning his head against the pillow with difficulty, he looked back toward the entrance of the tree and squinted against the bright sunlight that seemed to be fighting its way inside. He groaned; the sound barely loud enough for him to hear, but still causing his headache to worsen with the noise. Closing his eyes as he sought the oblivion of sleep, he could feel the stickiness of dried sweat on his skin and the dampness as more came to cover it. Somehow it seemed funny to him and Severus began to laugh, tears stinging his eyes as he coughed a bit more and his humor morphed into despair.

He was born from an incredibly powerful pureblood line of wizards, but he was only half-blood and as such rejected by them all. His mother had been a caring woman, or as caring as she could be given the poisonous home they lived in, but just when he needed her the most she had turned away from him. She had sworn that she would never drink, but now she was as imbibed as his father. The only person who seemed to truly care about him was a person he'd never met and the home that made him feel safe was a hollowed out tree in the middle of park more than a mile from the house his family lived in. And now here he was, sicker than he could ever remember being and he was all alone.

"This is how it's going to be then?" he asked of no one, his voice hoarse and dark with the illness clogging his throat. "Just me? Just me taking care of m'self. I'll never be anything but a mistake, will I?"

His eyes closed again, a few pitiful dry coughs escaping his throat as sleep came to claim him. The fever had made him delirious, but in the same way it also made him see things clearly. He had to take care of himself; he had to look out for himself because there was no one out there who would do it for him. The one who left him the things here in this tree, they didn't know him not really and he wondered if they would care the same as they did now once they met. Groaning in his half-sleep state, he fought against the darkness of his mind that threatened nightmares if it continued.

He squeezed the bear in his arms, his head turning down as he buried his face in the downy-soft fur. He whimpered in his fevered-sleep as he searched for comfort and lengths away in a house that sat on the edge of the park, a girl hugged a stuffed unicorn tightly in her arms. Red hair fanned out over the pillow, strands of crimson-sunset highlighted by spun gold and maple brown fell to cover her arm and parts of the stuffed creature she held in her arms. Her brow furrowed as she slept, her unconscious mind able to feel the sadness and longing of another and her heart reached out into a world that reason and logic could not define.

Her heart reached out to him while she slept, following the path of emotion and energy that was left behind and tied between the things that she had given him and those she had replaced her own with. The bear and unicorn were locked together through invisible ribbons, her scent and spirit infused in the sewn cloth and strings of fur. It was only an hour later that she woke from her nap, her heart still focused on the emotions she could feel and her unicorn remained with her throughout the day. She wished only for the sadness she felt to heal, the loneliness to be taken away and in a way she didn't understand, she knew that these feelings weren't hers.

Their hearts remained connected to each other in a silent communication that was brought together by the stuffed animals. Like two tin cans and a string, the unicorn and teddy bear were connected by energy and emotion. The sun fell hours later, the horizon welcoming it with open arms as the sky became infused with a myriad of colors that slowly faded into the darkness of twilight. The sun rose and fell in succession, repeating the astronomical dance each day after the other without the boy in the tree waking to be witness to it. One week passed as he remained unconscious and another began as his body trembled with raging fever and wracking chills.

It was on the tenth day that he stirred his young body stiff and weak. His headache was still present, but less than it had been before and Severus stood slowly on unsteady legs as he made his way quickly outside the tree. He needed the bathroom and knew that there was a house at the edge of the park that no one lived in. The inside was always maintained, the electric working and he had slept inside only once before when it had been too cold to stay in his tree. He entered quietly through the back door, the lock submitting easily under his magic, and made his way up the stairs without a sound.

He had often wondered who lived in it, who owned the empty house he frequented if only to relieve himself. There were times that he found himself fantasizing, coming up with stories in his mind for where the owners might be and why they would keep an empty house maintained, but those thoughts had become silent over the passing months. He was five, he reminded himself as he washed his hands and thought – as he always did – what it would be like to shower or bathe inside such a pristine loo. He never dared to though, believing that he would be caught and punished if he became greedy. When had he learned that fantasies and stories held no comfort? He looked around the bathroom and stilled when he saw himself in the mirror above the sink.

He hated himself. There was no denying that. Every time he looked into a reflective surface all that he saw was a younger version of his father's face. Would he turn into the man? Would he become like him and be a coward who knew nothing of honor or dignity? _You're a child,_ some part of his mind whispered to him, desperate to hide away from the ugly truth of the world and remember what innocence felt like. But he couldn't, he hadn't been a child for a long time, not since that first night he had witnessed his father beating his mother. It had been that moment and those that followed that told him his childhood was over.

A child doesn't think of the reality of a situation, he told himself as he moved down the stairs and slipped outside of the house. A child doesn't see the world as it is and know that it won't change or get better. A child believes in fairytales and knights on white horses and heroes come to save them in the darkness of the night. He wasn't a child. He didn't have the ability to believe in a better future or a lighter path. He didn't have the will or the faith to believe that one day he could be more than his surroundings. He only saw what was and knew that there would never be anything more.

He returned to his tree, part of him wondering how long he had been away from home while another part didn't care. His young face contorted in disgust at the feel of his hair and the natural oils that had built up during his sleep. He needed a shower, he needed to be clean and despite how much he hated the feel of the bathroom in his family's house; it was the only one he could shower in. He straightened up his tree, casting away the opened and empties juice and snack packets before tugging his quilt out to lay spread flat on the dirt floor.

He had only used this spell once and didn't know if he could get it to work a second time, but closed his eyes and hoped for the best. Holding his hands out over the blanket, he felt his palms tingling as he gathered his magic and focused his mind. He held the word in his mind for several long and silent moments before he finally spoke it, feeling his head and hands sparking with power before feeling a silent wind at his feet. Opening his eyes and looking down, he felt pleased to see the quilt was as clean then as the day he unwrapped it. Repeating the process with the pillow, he folded the quilt and tucked the bedding back inside the sheet wrappings.

Everything was kept as neat as possible, this place meaning more to him than any other, and Severus did what he could to take care of the tree that so many times took care of him. Making certain that the book of the dark arts was hidden by magic and the quilt; he left the tree and stepped out into the world once more. The sky was grey and overcast as so many were, but for once he didn't feel overwhelmed by grief or pain or loneliness, this time he simply felt numb. It was as though his emotions had been stripped from him, taken away with nothing left behind and he welcomed the peace it brought him.

It didn't take him long to traverse the alleys behind the houses and he found himself standing below the window of his family's house. Blinking as he looked up at the window on the second floor, he wondered if the numbness would always bring with it the inability to feel the world around him. It was as though time held no meaning, as though nothing around him was real. Tipping his head back down to look ahead of him, he reached out his left hand to touch the brick wall. He could feel it beneath his palm, but at the same time he couldn't. It felt to him that the roughness and coldness of the bricks was little more than a delusion of his mind. They were there and he knew that they were real, but they held no feeling to him at all.

"Give me stairs," Severus spoke the words, his voice as lacking in emotion as the rest of him and he watched as the bricks moved out at different intervals.

It was strange to him that he felt as though he had greater control even if he could barely feel the magic now. Was he growing stronger for having performed this particular spell so many times or was he simply removed from all that was around him? He couldn't rightly tell the difference and reached out to climb the wall without truly noticing the actions he took. It was on a short moment later that he was standing inside his bedroom and looking down at the wall outside thinking of how strange it was that he had no memory for having climbed his way up. He should remember, but he simply didn't.

He turned away from the window and looked around his room, frowning when he realized that there was no note, no sound or sign that anyone had missed him or come looking for him. His bed was made neatly, the flat pillow positioned perfectly in the center at the head of his bed while the threadbare blanket was lain overtop. The floors were free of any clutter and even his closet stood open, but neatly organized on the inside. He wondered then if his mother had cleaned his room and where she could have gone.

Stepping out into the hall, he listened for any sign of life, but found none, the house standing empty. The walls were scrubbed clean, the floors as well and even the ratty throws on the floor seemed to have been cleaned at some point between the time he left and his return. There was no one in his parents' bedroom, the bottles his mother had drunk from gone from the floor. If he thought hard enough, he was certain that he could turn the memory of her being drunk and the words she had spoken to him into little more than a nightmare. He could do that, couldn't he? Make his last memory of her a dream so that he wouldn't have to deal with it later?

No, he thought as he looked around the empty bedroom. If he started turning his bad memories into nightmares now than he would do it with all that had come before and all that would come after. He would wind up turning himself into nothing but a mindless and willing victim for his father and he couldn't bear the thought of it. Breathing in deeply as he closed his eyes, Severus allowed the memory from the last night he had spent with his mother to fill his mind. The same part of him that knew he couldn't turn this memory into a nightmare also knew that he had to accept it and to do that he had to relive it.

The words she had spoken to him that night cycled back through his mind and stung deeply, but he knew with every fiber of his being that he had to listen, he had to remember. Opening his eyes, he turned away from the room and walked down the hall. It hurt now and he had to let it, he had to face it and know the difference between truth and fantasy. He moved into the bathroom, needing to shower, needing to be clean more than anything else. He searched the tub and the cupboard under the sink, but there was no soap, no shampoo or anything else to wash with. He couldn't shower without soap.

He checked the cupboard in the hall, finding a towel, but again a complete lack of soap. There were cheap chemicals to clean with, though none were safe to be used on a human body. His dark brows pulled together deeply in confusion and frustration as he wondered where all the soap could be. There had been some the night before he left, he was certain of it, but now every trace of it seemed to be gone. How long had he been away? Setting the towel down on the sink edge, Severus made his way back through the hall and down the stairs to find the parlor just as quiet as the rest of the house.

There were no lights on, no signs of life as he stepped from one room into the next and Severus wondered once more where his mother was. The clock on the wall made it clear that his father would still be at work, but it was the calendar in the kitchen that caught his attention. His mother often marked off the days, though he never understood why, but if what he was seeing was correct, he had been gone for nearly a fortnight. He'd never felt the days pass and couldn't remember anything but that first night running to the tree. He knew that he had been soaked by the time he'd gotten there, his clothes completely sodden with the cold rains. There had been strong winds that night too, but he couldn't remember anything between getting there and waking up earlier that day.

Stepping toward the kitchen sink, he looked around at the small lip between the sink and wall and on the counters around it, but found no soap there either. Opening the cupboard doors, he looked down and found one small bottle of dish soap, the blue liquid almost gone. There was nothing else to use, nothing else to clean with and he thought that if this soap was safe enough for his mother to clean dishes with using her bare hands then it would be safe enough for him to shower with. Carrying the bottle with him, he returned to the bathroom upstairs and undressed before turning on the water.

The shower was never able to get any warmer than lukewarm and even though he had the hot water turned on full blast, the only thing the shower seemed to do was grow colder. It took less of the dish soap to create a fine lather than it did what he normally used and Severus washed himself and his hair as quickly and thoroughly as he could before stepping out. He was shivering from the cold water, the air in the house around him only making it worse, but still he felt better for having been cleaned. Moving back into his bedroom, he dressed in the one set of jimjams he had that were a correct fit for his body.

The headache came back as he dropped his discarded clothes and the towel he'd used in the hamper, his stomach clenching fiercely as vertigo raged inside his brain. He ran for the bathroom, making it to the toilet with barely enough time to spare to get the seat up before he vomited into the porcelain bowl. He whimpered as the stomach cramps increased, his earlier chills gone as it felt to him that fire had ignited beneath his skin. He was so hot then, too hot for it to be a momentary condition and groaned as the memory of waking sick and alone in his tree came back to him. That was why he had been gone so long, he had been sick and it seemed that he wasn't quite done with it yet.

He flushed away the sick, moving to the sink to rinse his mouth and wash his face with a damp cloth before returning to his bedroom. Pulling the door closed, he didn't bother with turning on the light as the thick grey sky outside his window grew darker. Collapsing onto his bed, he struggled underneath the worn blanket that he was too tired to move off of and fell asleep only second after covering himself. He didn't hear the sound of the front door opening and closing or the steps on the stairs, but he could almost feel the brush of warm fingers against his face moments later.

She still wasn't able to believe her eyes, Eileen thought as she remained seated on the bed next to her son. He had been missing for over a week and far closer to two, but here he was now simply resting in his bed as though he'd been there the entire time. She brushed her hand against his cheek and over his freshly washed hair before frowning deeply and returning her hand to his face. It wasn't her imagination, her son was burning with fever and as she bent closer to listen as he breathed, she could hear him wheezing as well. Had he been sick this entire time? Lost somewhere alone in the elements and unable to get home because of his illness?

"Severus," Eileen nudged his shoulder gently. "Severus, wake up."

She called his name again and several times after, but no matter how much she shook him or how loud she spoke, he couldn't be woken. He'd never been sick before, not as far as she could remember, and Eileen was frightened in her ignorance. She didn't know what to do to help him get better or even who she could call. Her husband would be no help, he never was and she had no friends to turn to in their desolate community. The closest family that she knew of lived on the other side of the park, but even they weren't someone she could call upon.

She moved quickly from her son's bedside, running down the stairs to the small private study below and threw open the door. Removing the cloaking spell from the books she hid around the room, she began taking them from the shelves one by one and searching through each spell and potion recipe she could find. There was nothing to remove an illness from someone, no way of healing it by potion or spell that she could find. There was more than one curse that she discovered in which she could cast an illness upon someone else, but nothing to take it away and she yelled in her frustration as she returned the last book to the shelf.

"He could die," Eileen whispered helplessly. "We don't have the money to take him to a doctor and I don't have the strength or the coin to take him to St. Mungo's. What am I to do?"

Her desperation fueled the magic within her and the uncontrolled power brought forth a book from the shelf, the volume flying into her hands with enough force to bruise. She held the thick leather bound tome as it opened on its own and the pages flipped rapidly to a page near the end. There was one spell, one very taxing and very powerful spell. She didn't know if she had the strength to cast it, her energy all but lost with the time it had been since she had last had something to eat, but for her son she would try anything. It would cure his illness; it wouldn't lessen it or speed his healing. No, this spell was very specific in form and intent and if the caster wasn't willing than it had the possibility of killing the one it was intended to aid.

She carried the book with her as she returned to her son's room and sat next to him once more. Studying him as he slept, she watched him shiver, his muscles quivering with the fever that refused to allow him to wake. Looking down at the book in her hands, she steeled herself against whatever pain might come and began to speak the words on the page. Vertigo was the first thing to hit her, and she fought against the spots dancing in her vision as she continued to recite the spell. Nausea came next and the fever came at her last, but with a force unlike any of the others.

The spell hadn't removed the illness completely from her son, but what it did do was allow her to take the brunt of it. Had she been stronger, had she better control, all of Severus' illness would have been transferred to her, but for now this was all she could do. It was a struggle just to stand from her son's bed and Eileen had to fight the blinding vertigo with every step she took. She knew that she needed to hide the books downstairs, but also knew that there was no way she could make it to the stairs without falling down them. Leaning heavily on the wall, she made her way slowly to her bedroom and fell down upon the mattress, her eyes closing instantly as the fever rendered her unconscious.

**:::::**

Severus breathed in deeply as he looked around, unable to truly determine where he was. For once, his lungs weren't burning him every time he breathed in and his head was no longer pounding like a summer thunderstorm. He didn't feel good, but neither did he feel ill. He couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet and when he looked down; he found that he couldn't see it either. There was nothing but darkness all around him, no floor or walls, no ground or sky. He wasn't sure what it meant and hoped it to be a dream for the only other explanation he could think of was that he might be dead.

Someone chuckled, the sound warm and welcoming and he turned around in circles as he searched for who was there with him. There was nothing in this dark place that he could reach out and touch, nothing physical that could tell him where he was, but he didn't feel threatened by it and he didn't understand why. He called out to the other presence there with him, his tone at once both suspicious and confused. He felt a brush against his cheek, something both warm and soothing, but saw nothing. He lifted his hand, could feel the air around him move and his muscles contract, but he couldn't see anything at all.

"Don't fret so much, young Prince," the woman spoke to him and Severus frowned as he focused on the sound.

"Your voice," he said as he concentrated his efforts on listening to everything he could. "You're the woman from the park, the night it rained."

"One in the same," she said softly, laughing with delight. "This kind of communication is different and strange to you, I know. It's a dream or feels like one, and just like a dream, young Prince, you won't remember it once you wake."

"Where are we?" Severus asked and heard her sigh softly, the sound bringing with it an end to her merriment.

"We're in the in between," she told him and he felt bands of warmth wrap around him. "Yes, those are my arms," she told him answering his thoughts.

"Did you bring me here?" he asked her and felt her shake her head even though he couldn't see the movement.

"No, you came here on your own. I am simply here to keep you safe, to keep you from going to the other side," she said, her voice subdued and he found himself wishing for her effervescence to return.

"What is on the other side?" he asked her softly.

"Something you're not ready to see yet," she replied sadly. "You're in the in between, young Prince. You're not dead, yet not alive. Your mother took the illness from you, but it had already started to claim you."

"Who are you?" Severus asked, narrowing his eyes and turning around in the hopes of seeing her, but once again he was met with only darkness.

"You won't know me now, nor will you ever, but one day my name will mean something again. I am Jacqueline Martin," she told him.

"Why doesn't your name mean anything?" Severus asked and felt the warmth of her arms surrounding him again.

"You're trying to distract yourself," she told him gently, her hold tightening for a moment before it loosened and he felt two points on his arms being held. "I will tell you only this – one day, one day far away in a future that is not yet told, my granddaughter will bring peace."

"Bring peace to what?" he asked and heard her tsk.

"I've said too much already. You need to focus now, young Prince. Focus on the home you never want to return to. Focus on the mother who abandoned you. Focus on that which is real," she instructed him. "Do not let your dreams pull you any further away. Focus on that which is real."

He didn't want to listen to her commands, but he found himself unable to resist her words. His eyes closed as his mind focused on his bedroom and the thin threadbare blanket that wasn't enough to keep him warm in the spring and did nothing in the winter. He felt weak and dizzy, his body weightless and he knew that he was falling. There was no air around him to tell him of high up he was or where the ground below him might be, but he knew that he was falling too fast for words to describe.

His eyes snapped open as he felt the jolting feeling of being dropped against something hard and blinked as he waited for his vision to adjust. He found himself lying on the floor of his bedroom and realized that he must have fallen out of his bed. It had to have been a nightmare he was having, unable to remember his dream, but knowing that he didn't usually thrash about in his sleep. He found that he still had the headache and it was still a bit hard to breathe, but he didn't feel sick anymore. The fever was gone; his skin a bit clammy, but cool to the touch.

Bracing his hands against the floor, Severus stood and moved out of his room into the hall. It didn't appear that anyone was home yet, the lights still not turned on, but then the shower he had taken was cold. It was more than likely that they were without the electric again and he hated that he had no way of turning it on or warming the water he used to wash with. Narrowing his eyes on his parents' room down the hall, he waited a moment before stepping toward it; certain he had seen a shadow within. His steps became slower the closer he came to the room until he stopped and stood still within the open doorway.

It hadn't been his imagination, he discovered, there really someone lying on the bed within. The body was sprawled out across the top of the blankets, looking as though whoever it was had simply fallen onto the bed and not bothered moving again. The body was too small to be his father's and he feared that his mother was drunk again. He didn't want to experience that, he didn't want to even remember her when she was drunk, but his concern drew him closer. Stepping up to the bed, he reached out and touched her hand only to pull back when he found her skin to be considerably warmer than it usually was. Frowning as he moved closer, he reached out to touch her face and found her skin to be hot, more than hot she was burning fever.

"Mum?" Severus called to her, but she never moved or made a sound. "Mum?" he tried again and shook her gently.

He looked up at the sound of footsteps behind him and felt the sharp pain against his cheek before he even saw the man move. Crying out when he landed against the bare cold floor, he looked up with wide eyes and scrambled away from the boot lashing out toward him. His father wasn't speaking a word and Severus doubted the man was sober enough to care about what he was doing. The only safe place was under the bed, but he hated it under there with the spiders that had made the underside of the wooden framing their home.

Grunting as he caught a boot strike to his stomach, he knew that he had nowhere else to go and quickly scooted under the bed. Moving as fast as he could, he curled up into a ball and hid in the middle of the floor under the bed. Pushing himself back with his feet until his back hit the wall, Severus knew that there was no way his father could reach him where he was. The side tables would block his reach and his arms weren't long enough to grab him otherwise. The only way his father would be able to get him would be to crawl under the bed himself and Severus knew that he would be fast enough to avoid him if the man tried.

He glanced up and immediately wished he hadn't, cringing and turning away from the many spider webs that were clustered under the bed's frame. He buried his face in the crook of his arm and the floor as he listened to his drunken father berating him and scandalizing his mother's family. Tobias Snape hated magic for the sole reason that it couldn't give him what he wanted and he put himself and his family into ruin every day if only to prove his anger at the unfairness of it. He could have married for money, he raged. He could've done as his grandfather wanted and married the Owens' girl whose family owned the steel mills in London, Barking, and Sheffield, but of course he had chosen to be contrary. He had chosen to keep the relationship going with the odd girl he had met in the equally odd little pub he had stumbled into one day when it was pouring rain outside.

She had been the only one to talk to him, the only one to offer him a cup of tea and a bit of conversation and he had been fascinated. His grandfather had cut him out of his will entirely and convinced his father to do the same. If he had known then that Eileen was a witch or that he would lose the money that was his, rightfully his, he would never have entertained the flirtations. He hadn't even wanted to marry her, or at least that was the lie that he told himself when he was as drunk as he was then. She had forced it all to happen. She had cast a spell on him and lost him everything he could have had and for that, oh for that he would give her a life of hell. She and that devil spawn that she had given birth to for he would never admit that Severus was truly his son.

Tears formed in the child's eyes as he listened to the man's mad ranting turn dangerous and flinched at the sound of the strike of flesh on flesh. There was another sound a moment later, a grunting followed by the crumpling of a body to the floor and he lifted his head just enough to see that his mother had been thrown off the bed. She was sick, terribly sick and his father had simply thrown her to the floor like unwanted laundry. He wanted to reach out to her, to protect her in any way that he could, but he was too small, too tired, and what little magic he could wield wasn't enough to do more than move her arm. He focused until his head was aching with a million flaming spears and his nose was dripping blood, but still he couldn't move her with his magic. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the toe of his father's boot connecting with his mother's leg.


End file.
